


Worth The Trouble

by Vox (Meislovely)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, Communication Issues, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Purring Elves, Sylvanas typical self-loathing, Touch-Starved, Vague Political Marriage AU, Windrunner issues, gratuitous fluff, hand holding, magical strap-ons, overly emotional smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meislovely/pseuds/Vox
Summary: After a year of enduring a 'less than ideal' marriage for the sake of peace, Jaina realizes that a small change can lead to intense - and confusing - results.orSylvanas tries to deal with her wife suddenly not hating her anymore. Badly.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Comments: 83
Kudos: 582





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a bad habit of trying to write one shots that turn into multi-chaptered monsters.

Jaina’s steps were light as she made her way to the kitchens. For the first time in almost a year, she had a day off. It had taken a lot of careful planning, rescheduling, and bargaining, but she’d managed to secure an entire day to just relax.

Most of the time, she thrived on the hard work that came from being one of the queens of Lordaeron. It was immensely satisfying to keep the kingdom running like clockwork, but it had been damn near luxurious to take a long bath without a ranger slipping an urgent message under her door and sit by the sea without barking orders at her captains. She hadn’t even seen her insufferable wife lurking around.

She slipped into the kitchens, smiling as the smell of sugar, melted butter, and vanilla wreathed around her. She caught sight of a forsaken man taking off his apron. “Going on break, Marcus?”

“Yes, Lady Proudmoore.” He always spoke with a choked voice and a lopsided grin. “The cookies are on the cooling rack. Will you be back for dinner?”

She began taking cookies off the rack and laying them on a handkerchief. “No. I probably won’t be back until late.”

He nodded and shrugged on his coat throwing a “Have a nice night, Lady Proudmoore.” over his shoulder as he left.

She folded the handkerchief over the stack of cookies and cast a quick charm to keep them warm and gooey. She eyed the pantries in search of anything else she might want to bring, but a voice from the door made her hands clench so suddenly that she nearly crushed her cookies.

“Off to commit treason again, wife?”

_And her day was going so well…_

Jaina unclenched her suddenly tight jaw, her voice carefully even. “It’s not treason to go see my friend, Sylvanas.”

“Ah, yes. Meeting the leader of the Silver Covenant to gossip about our nation can only help, right?”

Jaina whirled, eyes narrowed dangerously before they even landed on her. Sylvanas leaned idly against the doorframe in her casual leathers, ears straining straight up. “I know that your memory is awful, but I’ve told you - _multiple times_ \- that I don’t use my leisure time to discuss any of our business.” It was always the same song and dance. Sylvanas knew just what buttons to press to make her want to explode. “Besides, you act like we have to hide some kind of atrocity we’ve committed.”

“Anything is an atrocity in the right eyes.” Sylvanas’ smirk was devoid of humor. “If they show up on our doorstep to kill us all, I’ll know who to blame.”

“If they show up on our doorstep, it’ll probably be your own damn fault.” She jammed the cookies into her satchel with a bit more force than necessary. “Try not to start any wars while I’m gone.”

The only reply was a widening of Sylvanas’ smirk.

The smell of ozone blew through the room as she cast her spell. After having done it so many times, the pull and yank of teleportation was almost a comfort. Not enough to quell her anger, but enough to not start screaming the second she appeared in Vereesa’s warm living room.

Vereesa sat in her favorite, worn chair with a cup of tea halfway to her mouth and her eyebrows halfway to her hairline as she eyed Jaina carefully. “... Another argument?”

Jaina blew out a harsh breath, “Tides, it’s like she _wants_ me to blast her smug face into the void. Has she always been like that?”

“Lacking a sense of self preservation?”

“No. An asshole.”

“Yes.” Vereesa finally took a sip of her tea. “Alleria got the worst of it. In fact, I think Lirath and I were the only ones in Quel’thalas she didn’t needle.”

Jaina collapsed onto her couch. Vereesa’s furniture was much more comfortable than anything they had in the keep. Her home was cozier too, with wide slashes of sunlight from high windows doing more to light the room than the little mage lights scattered about. The cup of tea, already poured and placed in front of her usual spot, brought a small smile to her face. She’d always been more inclined towards coffee, but there was something about having a cup of Vereesa’s strangely watery tea that made the tight clenching in her chest loosen just a little.

She held the cup in her hand, taking a moment to breath in the calming scent. It was jasmine today. 

“How did you and Lirath manage to avoid her hazing?”

Vereesa hummed thoughtfully. “Well, Lirath was just… nice. All the time. He was the kind of guy that was hard to insult, because he just smiled and ignored it. They ended up being really close.” She gave Jaina a sly smile, “And I just cried.”

“Cried?” Jaina asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah. Every time she tried to jab at me, I just burst into tears. She’d freeze up like I was holding her at knifepoint. It was even better when mom was within earshot.” Her smile widened, “I can do it on command, you know. Not those beautifully tragic tears either - the heaving, sobbing, snot-everywhere kind.”

It took Jaina a long moment to process that. “... Are all Windrunners master manipulators?”

“Not all of us. The gene skipped Alleria. She likes to stab her problems. She got into a knife fight with Sylvanas once when she tried to steal her dessert.” She giggled. “The look on Minn’da’s face when she came home to find two of her daughters trying to kill each other over honey cakes was priceless. They were grounded for a whole month!”

The urge to drink found her every time she heard about a Windrunner Family Incident. She ignored it the best she could, reaching into her satchel instead. “That reminds me, I brought these.” She set the somewhat smushed cookies on the table. Her heart felt a bit lighter as Vereesa’s weary eyes brightened and she chuckled softly at the way her ears shot straight up. It was strange how seeing Sylvanas do that spurred rage, rather than the amusement Vereesa inspired.

She blinked at the connection - that Sylvanas looked at fury the way Vereesa looked at cookies. “So, she _likes_ it?”

“What?” Vereesa mumbled around a mouthful of cookie, “I mean, I never _asked_ Alleria if she likes stabbing, I just assumed-”

“No, Sylvanas. She _likes_ pissing people off?”

“Oh. Definitely.”

Jaina sighed. Of _course_ she did, it was _Sylvanas_. She wasn’t sure why it had taken over a year of marriage, of seeing her almost every day, to figure that out. Then again, thoughts of Sylvanas were usually muddled by a simmering rage.

She shook her head, resolving not to spare her another thought. Her mood was looking up, and her day off was still salvageable. They were desperately in need of a subject change. “How are the boys?”

* * *

Jaina’s curtains were drawn on the heavy clouds outside - she’d had her fill of clouds and rain in Boralus. Instead her office was lit by the blue magelights at the corners of her desk as she slowly whittled away at the massive stack of papers that had accumulated while she was overseeing the repairs of the Lordaeron Library. The subtle slide of paper against paper was a balm on ears that had grown far too used to the sound of construction over the last few days.

She’d only made it halfway through the stack (and two cups of coffee) when that rasping voice disrupted her peace. “Hello, wife.”

Jaina took a deep breath through her nose. It had been a while since she’d been forced to face her wife. Between the library repairs and Sylvanas deciding to accompany the border patrol, the last few days had been blissfully quiet.

“Hello, Sylvanas.” Her voice wasn’t a growl, but it was a close thing. She already felt the familiar heat in her veins, her hands struggling not to twitch and clench.

Sylvanas strode soundlessly up to her desk, laying a paper down in front of her. “I would like you to look over this report.” Her gaze slid over the towering stack of paperwork, “If you can spare the time. I didn’t expect _you_ of all people to fall behind.”

Sylvanas was probably even more behind on paperwork after her little jaunt through the forest, and had the nerve to bring Jaina even more work. A sharp barb was on the tip of her tongue, but it fell away when she looked at Sylvanas. Red eyes staring down at her intently, ears pointed straight up.

So, instead, she opened the report and scanned the looping scrawl. It seemed there actually was a problem. Ogre’s harassing the patrols and making the hunters and farmers in the area nervous. Nothing too disastrous, but troubling nonetheless.

“I am a bit behind, aren’t I? I’ll be sure to get them done promptly.” She drawled, keeping her face carefully impassive.

Sylvanas was uncharacteristically silent. Then, to Jaina’s great amusement, she shifted and folded her arms. A smirk tried to fight it’s way onto Jaina’s face, but she shoved it back.

“Are you sick?” She finally looked up to see Sylvanas’ nose wrinkled in confusion and her brows knit together. 

“No. Why do you ask?”

Sylvanas frowned for a moment before her face smoothed into neutrality. It was fascinating to watch. She’d never really had cause - or desire - to pay attention to Sylvanas’ face. Had she always been so expressive?

“The bags under your eyes rival the luggage you brought when you moved in. You truly fit in among the Forsaken now.” There it was again - that perking of ears. It was even more pronounced this time, shifting her hood slightly. 

Once she had pinpointed the trigger, it was almost too easy to stroll right around it. And when the haze of anger wasn’t clouding her mind, Sylvanas’ insults were… well, lukewarm - at best. She distinctly remembered them being worse. More scathing, more brutal.

“I suppose I do need to get more rest.” She said casually. Then, without thought, “We can’t all be ethereally beautiful, you know.”

She winced the second the words left her mouth. Sylvanas may have been gorgeous in her own… vaguely ominous way, but she certainly didn’t need her ego stroked. Especially not by Jaina.

Sylvanas jolted as if she’d been struck, nose wrinkling again. Then, to Jaina’s astonishment, she quickly muttered, “Right. Do send that report to my office when you’re done.” Then turned on her heel and fled without another word.

Jaina stared after her for a moment, eyes wide and mouth open. She’d thought that mastering the arcane, having massive amounts of mana at her fingertips and the knowledge to direct it, was the biggest rush she’d ever get. Now, it was usurped by the power to make Sylvanas Windrunner - Banshee Queen and former Warchief of the Horde - turn tail and run as if felhounds were snapping at her heels.

Jaina grinned. Maybe a few compliments were worth the trouble.

* * *

Their first Winter Veil Feast hadn’t been… ideal.

That was an understatement, of course. Sylvanas had been at her most vicious the entire evening. Jaina had ‘accidently’ spilled her red wine on all over the Banshee’s dress. From there, it had devolved into screaming, threats, and a couple of broken windows.

So, as she laced up the front of the sky blue dress she’d had commissioned for the occasion, she hoped - _prayed_ \- that there wouldn’t be another incident. Or that they were at least serving white wine. She squared her shoulders in the mirror and went to face her fate.

Sylvanas was waiting at the end of the hall, standing tall with her hands tucked neatly behind her back. Red eyes raked up and down her body and her ears shot up. Jaina braced herself for the comment she knew was coming, and like clockwork-

“You’re wearing _that_?” She asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I am.” They fell into step, approaching the heavy ballroom doors. When she eyed Sylvanas out of the corner of her eye, her expression was almost sullen, mouth set into a tight line. “You look stunning tonight. That vest makes your hair look amazing.”

It wasn’t a lie. The deep purple vest and black shirt underneath made the pale locks draped over her shoulders look damn near luminous.

Sylvanas made a strangled sound, whipping her head around to stare at Jaina so intently that she nearly ran into the doorframe. Jaina simply shot her a serene smile.

“I… what?” She finally choked out, nose wrinkled.

“I’m going to greet our guests. I’ll see you at the table.”

She left Sylvanas gawking in the doorway, turning her back to hide the triumphant grin that split her face. The grin stayed on her face, even as she picked her way through the crowd, greeting the wary guests. Everyone seemed to glance nervously between her and Sylvanas, hands resting where their weapons would be if they hadn’t been required to come unarmed. It would’ve been funny, if they hadn’t had a good reason. 

Even Anduin seemed tense when she finally approached, despite the smile he greeted her with. He didn’t waste time with small talk, just asked, “What did you do to her?”

“What do you mean?” She hadn’t so much as looked at Sylvanas since they arrived. A glance revealed that she was conversing with Lor’themar across the room, her shoulders hunched and a glass of wine in her hand. It was red. Jaina narrowed her eyes.

“She’s been rather… subdued. If it wasn’t _her_ I’d call it sulking.” He looked at her sidelong, a tiny smile quirking his lips. “Did you give her a stern talking to?”

She didn’t know how to explain that Sylvanas probably would’ve been _happier_ with a stern talking to, so she simply said, “Something like that.” His eyebrows raised, but she cut in before he had a chance to ask anymore questions, “The feast is starting soon, I’d better take my seat.”

She made her way to the high backed chair at the head of the table, ignoring the hushed tones and cautious looks as she sat down. Slowly, everyone else began to take their seats, her wife being one of the last. Sylvanas eyed her as she slouched against the armrest, crossing one leg over the other and sipping at her wine as the cooks began to line the table with steaming platters of diverse food. She’d put in a painstaking effort to ensure that everyone invited would have something they’d enjoy.

“How are you liking the festivities?” Jaina asked lightly, filling her plate with slices of ham. She didn’t particularly like ham, but it was the platter closest to her.

“It’s rather dull.” She shrugged, one ear twitching towards Jaina. “I thought there would be a few more… fireworks. Last year was such a spectacle - I was wondering if you’d take out half the crowd this time.”

“It was certainly memorable.” Jaina admitted, “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood to give our guests a scare this time around.”

“How boring.” Sylvanas huffed, sinking deeper into her seat. 

Tides, she really was sulking, wasn’t she? That didn’t feel as good as she’d hoped. She silently cursed herself for caring if Sylvanas was sulking - for caring about her _at all_ . Then, cursed herself again for cursing herself. Why _shouldn’t_ she care about her damn wife? She may be impossible to deal with, but they were the only ones officially binding this treaty together. Would it really hurt to make an effort?

It was quickly becoming a downward spiral. She made an effort to stop silently cursing.

“Maybe. But think about how fun it is to watch them all squirm, waiting for something to happen.” She watched carefully as a hint of a smile flickered across Sylvanas’ wine stained lips. “Or, in Genn’s case, the disappointment when nothing does.”

Red eyes slid over to Greymane. The man was watching them with bated breath, hardly even glancing at his food.

“I suppose there are worse ways to pass the time. I’m not really dressed for being thrown out a window anyhow.” She drawled.

Jaina actually chuckled at that. It was almost unnatural to laugh at something Sylvanas said, but she couldn’t help herself. “I _would_ hate to ruin that outfit.”

One of Sylvanas’ eyebrows raised, “And my dress last year was so tragic that you needed to destroy it?”

“I’m still claiming that was an accident.”

“Yes, I’m sure it had nothing to do with what I said about your hair.”

“Nothing at all.”

“And you just _happened_ to fully extend your arm and _slowly_ pour your full glass of wine down the front of me.”

“Terrible accident. I’m rather clumsy with a few glasses of wine in me.”

“That was your first. And - judging by how much of it ended up in my shoes - I doubt you’d even had a sip of it.” Despite her dry tone, the small smile had grown enough to show just a hint of teeth.

Jaina’s own smile was starting to hurt her cheeks. Joking about it now was almost cathartic.

“You know…” Sylvanas looked down at the glass in her hands, her smile quirking slyly to one side. “All this wine is making me feel a bit... _clumsy_ …”

“ _Don’t you fucking dare_.”

Sylvanas let out a laugh. Not a cackle or a snicker, but an honest to gods laugh - rolling and low. It made her look lighter, calmer. She looked almost alive. 

Jaina couldn’t help but stare.

Sylvanas tilted her head, remnants of a smile still crinkling the corners of her eyes. “What?”

The words were out before she could even think. “You’re gorgeous when you laugh.”

Sylvanas’ face crumpled, contorted, then went slack - impassive. “I see.”

“I mean it, Sylvanas.” She added quickly.

Sylvanas shifted in her seat, ears pressed back against her head. “I’m sure.”

Jaina sighed quietly, chewing her lip. She wanted to see it again. The easy laugh, the smile, the gleam in her eyes. 

Jaina cursed herself to Thros and back. She just had to open her big mouth and ruin it.

* * *

The heavy doors of the throne room banged shut, prompting Sylvanas to let out a breath that came from the very bottom of her lungs.

Jaina had been right to suggest they take time every week to hear out the appeals of their citizens - not that she would say it out loud. It had been great for morale and let the new and diverse residents see them when they weren’t embroiled in war and two seconds away from tearing their hair out over the next bad report.

Unfortunately, that meant she had to sit on her polished throne for eight hours in the rigid ceremonial armor and listen to people prattle on about someone dropping their pickaxe down the well, or orcish bread costing a copper more than they expected. She was surprised she still had teeth after grinding them for so long. Sitting idly wasn’t in her nature - wasn’t in her blood.

She started down the hall at a clip, ears twitching with annoyance as Jaina’s footsteps followed. Her wife’s presence had become yet another thing to grind her teeth at. She’d been acting strange lately.

Their marriage had been fraught with Jaina’s spitting rage and volatile temper. Sylvanas preferred it that way - _relished_ it, even. Not only was it oh so easy to goad an explosive reaction, but she always knew where she stood with Jaina. She _knew_ that the mage hated her with a passion few rivalled. It was cathartic to see what most felt for her in plain view without the shroud of deception or delicacy.

Now, it was all wrong. She found herself wandering into situations that merited screaming and vitriol, only to come away with a few impassive words or even - Belore forbid - _compliments_ . The sudden turn had her wrong footed. Had her uncomfortable. _Anxious_.

“Sylvanas?” The tone was wrong. It should have been firm, unyielding. Instead, she’d taken to speaking to her in a curiously soft voice that prickled at the back of Sylvanas’ neck.

She contemplated not answering, just walking until she gave up or shouted at her. Unfortunately, whatever she had to say was probably important. She wouldn’t have bothered if it wasn’t. “Yes?”

“Those farmers. You didn’t say much about it in there. What did you think?” She asked, shuffling through her stack of notes. 

That had been one of the more tedious cases today. Perhaps ever. A couple of farmers with some sort of feud. One had been accused of stealing cattle, which couldn’t be proved because of how similar their brands were. The other had retaliated by stealing a few chickens. It had spiraled until someone had ended up with a leg in a beartrap and neither would give them a straight answer as to whose property it had been on. Remembering threatened to give her a headache.

“You were too soft on them.” That wasn’t entirely true. Jaina had handily worked out compensation and no contact agreements while Sylvanas was still trying to wrap her head around what she had been forced to listen to, but it was habit to prod at her.

Jaina shrugged, unperturbed. “I think it can be advantageous for our people to see us as merciful.”

Sylvanas’ stomach clenched uncomfortably. Not even a sigh or an eye roll. “You have a point.” She sighed. Sylvanas realized her mistake when Jaina’s eyes snapped to her face. It made something itch under her skin. She quickly corrected herself, “But appearing too merciful will encourage them to see us as weak.”

“I don’t think we’re in danger of anyone seeing us as weak.” Jaina smiled up at her, “You have to admit, being faced with an Archmage and the Banshee Queen is rather intimidating.”

Sylvanas didn’t think she had to admit anything. She simply clasped her hands behind her back and kept walking, gaze pinned straight ahead.

“Hey.” Jaina laid a hand on her arm, stopping her dead in her tracks. It was like her body had stopped heading her commands. The near scalding heat against the cold skin forced her tense muscles to relax all at once, like she was wicking away the steel that held her together.

She stared at Jaina’s hand for a moment and, when she looked into her face, wasn’t confronted with fury or cold hatred. It was something soft and unfamiliar. 

Pity.

The thought made her jolt away, teeth bared as the cold returned to that unfortunate patch of skin.

Jaina stared up at her, head cocked. “Are you… alright?”

“No!” Sylvanas snapped before she could stop herself. Her mouth slammed shut so quickly that her teeth clacked together with a jarring flash of pain. Belore, she’d bitten her tongue. Suddenly, it felt like Jaina had ripped her chest wide open and was poking and prodding at the useless organs on display.

It was bad enough when she’d let down her guard at the feast. Now Jaina was sniffing out her weaknesses like a bloodhound, searching eyes picking her apart piece by piece.

She swallowed back the taste of her own foul ichor and let her form dissolve into dark smoke. It was a relief when Jaina could no longer see every jagged edge of her and pick out new things to mock her for.

Jaina drew in a sharp breath, stepping back and summoning a crackling, blue shield around herself. As if Sylvanas would _hurt_ her, would sacrifice every effort she’d made for this damned peace treaty. 

She growled and shot out of the hall, out of the keep, until she hit the outer walls of the city. She didn’t want to be anywhere that thrice damned mage.

* * *

Without constant war looming over them, Sylvanas was treated to the novelty of an empty infirmary. 

There was a reason it was advised to fight ogres at a distance. Banshee or not, being batted across a clearing and through a tree wasn’t a pleasant experience. Luckily, none of her rangers had been injured in the confrontation, but that served to place her between relief that she took the brunt of the attack, and frustration that she’d been hit in the first place. 

If she hadn’t been so damn out of sorts, that ogre wouldn’t have even come within ten yards of her and she wouldn’t have had to endure the curious, concerned looks of her rangers on the long trip home with every hoofbeat of her horse jostling her abused body.

She could still hear them lurking about in the hallways. Their skills were growing rusty with the sustained peace, if she could pinpoint them so easily. She was eager to correct that with a few remedial training sessions, but she was stuck in a cot with a shadow priest looming over her.

He finished his chant and snuffed out his pungent incense, taking the care to pull her blanket up to cover her mottled chest. “I’ve done what I can for now.”

She clenched her teeth and gave him a tight nod.

“I’ll be back at dawn, Dark Lady.” He bowed his head and retreated.

The second he left the room, she hissed a breath out through her teeth and let her head fall back against the stiff pillow for a long moment. There was far too much to do for her to be laid up in the infirmary until dawn. Longer, if the throbbing in her left leg was anything to go by.

She straightened up as much as she could and touched lightly at the thread between her and her rangers. Belore, there were _four_ of them prowling around out there. There were better things for four rangers to do than loiter outside of an infirmary. She heaved a deep sigh and called out, “Clea.”

After a small pause, Clea shuffled in with ears hung low. “Yes, Dark Lady?”

“I need you to do something.”

Her ears straightened out at that, shoulders squaring.

“I need you and the others,” She nodded towards the hall, “To sniff out any more lingering ogres and wipe them off the face of Azeroth. We have civilians living far too close for them to be attacking whatever crosses their path. I will not have any of our people getting killed.”

She nodded quickly, her eyes burning in the dim light. “Yes Da-”

The sound of a portal ripping open and the startled growls of several rangers cut her off. Sylvanas’ ears twitched as she felt the rangers evacuate the area, followed by the near ominous sound of boots clicking hastily on the stone floor. Clea lept between her and the door, her bow drawn and an arrow knocked.

Sylvanas already knew who it was, the smell of ozone was unmistakable. “Stand down.” She muttered. Clea looked back at her and slid her arrow back into her quiver.

When Jaina blew in with eyes still glowing faintly, she brought the smell of brine and newly lacquered wood with her. It was strange to see her in anything other than her flowing robes, but the leather breeches and dark green coat did nothing to diminish her intensity. She paused in the doorway when she saw Clea, but quickly recovered - striding towards them.

“You have your orders. Take care of it.” As much as she loathed the idea of being alone with her wife, she hated the idea of her rangers seeing whatever mocking Jaina had come to do even more.

“Yes, Dark Lady.” Clea saluted and fled, giving Jaina a wide berth. 

Sylvanas frowned as she watched her leave. Ever since Jaina had expressed that she didn’t like being followed -despite Sylvanas pointing out that’s what personal guards _did_ \- with a few ice spikes that came a bit too close for comfort, they did their best to stay out of her sight. Sylvanas wished she had that option.

She fought to not recoil as Jaina approached her bed, taking in her battered, pathetic appearance. Her gaze lingered on the bruised shoulders and lacerated arms that the blanket didn’t cover. A hand rose as if to touch her face, but she let it fall. Instead, she pulled the priest’s chair closer and collapsed into it. “What happened to you?”

Sylvanas shrugged, realizing halfway through the motion how painful it was but finishing anyways. “The ogres that have been terrorizing the border assumed that peacetime made us weak. They won’t be assuming much of anything anymore.”

“I figured as much.” Jaina murmured. She was doing it again. Staring. Picking her apart. Sylvanas was exhausted from the healing and could hardly move her body. The vulnerability made her want to leave, to lick her wounds in peace. She’d managed to avoid Jaina for nearly a week after she’d lost her temper. It was fitting that she found her when she was physically unable to escape.

“Don’t you have a navy to run?” She bit out, jaw flexing, “Recruits to train? Ships to sail?”

Jaina leaned forward, reaching out to splay a hand lightly over her forearm. It wasn’t as startling as the last time, now that Sylvanas knew what to expect. That didn’t stop the sudden release of tension in her muscles, or the worrying ease with which the heat dispersed her own natural chill and crawled up her arm like a creeping infection. It was a relief to her aching body, but a discomfort to her weary nerves. 

“I figured that seeing my injured wife took priority.”

“Well, you’ve seen me. I’m sure you have more important things to do now.”

Jaina’s head tilted slightly, that searching look back on her face - even more pronounced now. “Have you considered that I think _you’re_ important?”

Sylvanas growled. It was the same song and dance. Instead of shouting or cursing, or even just sneering in disgust, she just _lied_. Disguised herself as another sycophant. Sylvanas couldn’t even figure out why. Why, after a year of marriage, had Jain changed her tune?

“What do you _want_ , Jaina?” She hissed.

She settled further into her chair, but left her hand where it was. The warmth had almost reached her fingers. Jaina spoke slowly, patiently, like she was trying to explain algebra to a child. “Cyndia said you’d been injured and I was worried, so I came to see you.” 

“I assure you I can still do my job. I can fill out paperwork with one arm -” Not entirely true. Her dominant hand was the one that had been mangled. Not that she’d let Jaina know that. “- and the rest of my duties can be delegated until I’m able to fulfill them. It will only take a few days for me to be… functional again.”

Jaina let out a long sigh. The hand squeezed gently, but Sylvanas studiously ignored it. “I wasn’t worried about your work, Sylvanas. I was worried about _you_.”

“I’m _fine_. Your precious peace treaty is still intact. I’m as alive as I get. Unless you just wanted to gawk at me while I’m confined to the infirmary, I’d suggest you go make sure our kingdom isn’t burning.” An idea, cruel and devious, slid into her mind. She let her voice drop low, giving Jaina a toothy smile, “Is that why you’re here? You just wanted to have me helpless and at your mercy?”

The effect was instant. Jaina’s eyes grew wide, lips parting as if she were struggling to keep her jaw from dropping. The insufferably warm hand was yanked away - like _she_ was the one that had been burned.

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, to Sylvanas’ growing glee. Finally, she managed to choke out, “Excuse me?”

“You always seemed like you’d prefer it the other way around.” Her smile widened, hair tickling her ears as they strained upwards. “I guess you’re just full of surprises.”

This time, Jaina’s jaw _did_ drop. She sprung out of her chair, face filling with so much color that Sylvanas could almost smell the blood pooling in her cheeks. “I suppose I do have other things to do.” Jaina snapped, giving her a flustered glare before she whirled and stormed off.

Relief washed over her for the first time in weeks. To have that gaze look at her with honest fury again went a long way to soothing her frayed nerves. Though, despite it being the reaction she expected - that she’d hoped for, counted on - it still gave a distant twinge of pain. It was telling that, of all the insults Sylvanas had flung, the one Jaina couldn’t stand was the thought of being attracted to her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for this chapter to be so long

The new library was _gorgeous_.

The dark wooden floors and towering bookcases gave it a comfortable, sheltered feel. Moonlight shone in through high windows, aided by the hundreds of magelights scattered about the building. It still smelled of polished steel and lacquered wood, but Jaina looked forward to when it was permeated with the scent of aging paper.

She’d been cataloguing books in preparation for the grand opening since the sun came up. It had taken every shred of self control she had not to pick up a stack of books and hide away in a corner to become well acquainted with one of the cozy couches filling the space.

They’d managed to salvage almost every book from the old library. The librarian of Lordaeron had been a powerful mage in their own right. As ruined and torn as the library had been, the books had been warded up and down against everything from accidental spills to arcane explosions. She picked up an old leather bound tome on farming and traced a finger over the simple cover as she wondered vaguely where the librarian might be today.

Jaina’s mood dimmed as she realized that they most likely hadn’t made it out of Lordaeron. That it didn’t matter if they had. If they’d gone to Theramore with the other survivors, they were dead anyways.

She placed the book back on the shelf, quickly scribbling the title in the records and moving on.

“Hello, wi-”

Jaina let out a short shriek, half a frostbolt already conjured before she recognized the voice. She whirled around, blinking owlishly at Sylvanas as she shook the excess mana from her hands. Just remembering their last encounter made heat pool in her cheeks. Judging by the slight hook to Sylvanas’ mouth, she wasn’t doing a great job of hiding it.

She smoothed her hands over her robes, taking a moment to collect herself. “Hello, Sylvanas. How are you feeling?”

Sylvanas scowled for a split second before her face smoothed out. She reacted to Jaina caring about her like a child avoiding cooties. Jaina couldn’t decide whether it was hilarious or heartbreaking. The more she tried to understand Sylvanas, the more confusing she was.

“I’m fine, now that I’ve had some peace and quiet.” She gave Jaina a pointed look.

Jaina almost let out a sigh of relief at the familiar prodding. This was something she could deal with. “I’m glad. You deserve a lot more peace and quiet than you get.” She wandered over to the front counter, setting the thick record book down. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think you had the same affinity for libraries that I do.”

“I don’t.” Sylvanas winced slightly as she shrugged. “Kalira told me that you hadn’t left this building since dawn. I wanted to make sure I didn’t have to spend my night hiding your body.”

Humor was still a bit unexpected. Or, well, Sylvanas’ macabre version of it. “I’m sure if someone attacked me here, the whole city would’ve known about it by now.”

Sylvanas snorted. “If someone attacked you, I doubt it’s _your_ body I’d be hiding. I had my bets on starvation.”

As if summoned by her words, a hollow pang in her stomach made her wince. Sylvanas had a point.

With a sigh, she flexed her fingers and summoned a small tray of mana buns. They were nutritionally void and sickly sweet, but it would shut her complaining stomach up until she managed an actual meal. Jaina leaned against the desk and took a bite, trying not to grimace. She’d always preferred savory, but the nature of mana made anything conjured sweet enough to rot your teeth.

Sylvanas approached slowly. Her careful pace didn’t quite hide the way she favored her right leg, or the way her ears tilted back at the movement. Injured and starving. What a pair they made.

“Do you ever eat? I’ve seen some of the rangers take meals in the dining hall.”

“Sure I do.” Her ears perked up, and apprehension hit Jaina square in the chest when it was followed by a toothy smirk. “Just not in the traditional sense.”

Her fingers abruptly decided that they no longer felt like functioning properly. The mana bun fumbled out of her hand, smeared icing on the front of her robe, and hit the ground with a sad plop. Jaina stared at it, since looking up seemed to be the worse of two evils.

She really should have expected this. She should have known that it wouldn’t be let go. That the second Sylvanas found the right button to press, she’d slam it as hard as she could. It was tempting to tell her to shut the hell up if she didn’t want to be frozen to the ceiling. But, the fact of the matter was that she didn’t _want_ Sylvanas to shut up.

After admitting to herself that Sylvanas was beautiful, after admitting that she actually _cared_ about her, the shock of realizing that Sylvanas was also _attractive_ was short-lived. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she had any idea what the fuck to do about it.

Even if she didn’t want her to stop, she sure as hell didn’t know how to tell her to keep going - at least not in a way that wouldn’t make Sylvanas disappear in a cloud of smoke, not to be seen until the next time she ended up in the infirmary. It left her inexplicably tongue tied and frustrated.

“Are you always such a messy eater?” Her voice was light, on the edge of a laugh.

She finally looked up at Sylvanas, lips pressed tightly together.

Still smirking. Still beautiful.

“You…” Jaina choked, impotently.

“Me.” Sylvanas confirmed, gleefully.

What the absolute fuck was she supposed to say?

“Nothing? Whatever happened to that clever tongue of yours?”

She let out a wordless growl and threw her hands up in frustration. There was only so much she could take and it only took a few slashes of her fingers to describe the teleport spell that would get her the hell out of there.

The hasty casting had her feet hitting the ground with a bit more force than she’d meant in the empty, ominous throne room. She clenched and unclenched her hands, taking a few deep breaths in an effort to fight off the lingering blush. This wasn’t sustainable. She needed to find a way to deal with that eventually. Hopefully before her blood pressure skyrocketed.

As she pushed open the massive doors, a ranger that had been wandering down the hall flinched at her sudden appearance, then abruptly turned around and started in the opposite direction at a faster pace. 

Jaina grimaced. She’d never paid them much attention, at least not after she’d… _aggressively_ expressed her wish to not be followed around like a child in need of supervision. But, the blatant avoidance was hard to miss.

Just a few weeks ago, that might have given her some spark of satisfaction - if she wasn’t entirely indifferent. Now…

“Wait.” She called quietly, mindful of how the halls tended to echo when they were this empty.

The ranger’s ears twitched back towards her and she came to a hesitant stop, shifting her weight from foot to foot before turning and snapping a quick salute. Jaina blinked at that. Had they always done that for her? Then again, had she ever addressed them directly? The question settled heavy in her stomach.

Jaina came closer, using the time to put together what she wanted to say. She hadn’t thought before calling out and it showed in her tentative steps. 

Now that she was close enough to see the face under her hood, a name came to mind. “Ranger Anya, right?” She still wasn’t certain of all of their names, but Anya seemed to hang around Sylvanas as much as Nathanos.

“Yes, Lady Proudmoore.” Her voice was light, but a flat monotone.

Jaina chewed at the inside of her lip for a moment before she spoke, “I think I owe you and the others an apology.”

Anya blinked slowly, ears cocking at strange angles. Jaina watched them, trying to match the movement to an emotion but drawing a blank.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?”

Jaina winced. She’d spent the better part of their marriage pretending that they didn’t exist unless it had to do with a report or a frosty glare when she caught one following her. “Well, for a lot. But I guess I’ll start with being rather… _hostile_ towards you. I didn’t appreciate being followed around, but I’ll admit the ice spikes were over the top.”

Another slow blink. Another twitching of ears.

The silence was nerve wracking. “I realize that it’s not much after an entire year of-”

Anya flapped her hand to cut her off. “It’s fine.”

Jaina blinked. “Just like that?”

“It gave us good incentive to sharpen our skills.” Anya gave her a half smile, “Besides, I doubt that I’d be thrilled to have a bunch of dead elves following me around, if I were you.”

The weight in her stomach grew heavier and she had to fight not to hunch her shoulders. “Yes, well, my opinion on dead elves seems to be changing a lot lately.”

Anya’s ears shot up with a speed that almost made Jaina flinch back. She’d noticed Vereesa and Sylvanas do that now. What did it mean for Anya?

“Are you sure you don’t just mean one _particular_ elf.”

Ah. That’s what it meant.

Jaina’s lips pursed as she tried to fight off the resurgence of her blush.

“That may have been the catalyst.” She admitted, “But I… I’m tired of all the hatred, to be honest.”

“We don’t hate you.” Anya walked a few steps closer, making it less like a standoff and more like a conversation. “Not even Nathanos hates you. That’s _why_ we stay away from you.”

Jaina’s eyebrows pulled together. “I thought it was the ice spikes.”

“Deadly consequences haven’t stopped us from doing anything we really want to do.” She grinned, “We stay away because you want us to. Except Sylvanas, but that’s a whole other can of worms that I won’t even _begin_ to get into.”

“Not even a little? I could use the enlightenment.” Jaina was only half joking. When Anya simply smirked at her, she breathed out a sigh. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like your presence is -”

Anya flapped a hand at her again. Jaina had never had a subordinate treat her so flippantly. Even sailors still minded themselves around their captain. It was oddly refreshing.

“You already apologized. Save that for the others, they’re a bit more sensitive.” She sighed, letting her hand fall. “And try not to make fun of Sylvanas so much. If your little power play ends up hurting her - world war or not - we’ll kill you. Or at least die trying.”

Jaina’s eyes widened at the abruptness of the threat, the nonchalance of it. Strangely enough, it was nice to think that Sylvanas had people that cared enough to die for her. It wasn’t nice to think that everyone who would die for Jaina had done just that.

She pushed the thought away.

“What do you mean ‘making fun of her’? I thought I was being quite nice.” She said, frowning.

“You’re not- oh. _Oh_ .” She stared at Jaina for a few moments before her face split into a grin that reeked of mischief. “They are _not_ going to believe me.”

“Who?” Jaina asked, bemused, “Believe what?”

“You think she’s pretty.” The words came with a teasing lilt.

This time, she couldn’t stop the heat that spread over her face. 

“I-! You heard that?” She caught herself. Of course she’d heard it. “She _is_! You act like I’m crazy for stating the obvious.”

Anya scoffed, “Of course she is. You’re just the only _living_ person to say she is. And her wife, too.” Jaina resolutely ignored the bouncing of Anya’s eyebrows.

Before she could question her further, her stomach growled it’s protest at being left with only a bite of mana bun.

Anya looked down at her stomach, eyes crinkling at the edges. “Lady Proudmoore, I think the food is supposed to go _in_ your stomach.” She motioned to the icing Jaina had forgotten was smeared on her robes.

She sighed, a small smile pulling at her lips. “So I’ve learned. I suppose I’ve kept you from your duties for long enough.”

Anya nodded, giving her a quick salute and a lazy smirk. “Good luck.”

Jaina didn’t want to dwell on what Anya meant by that.

* * *

The next time Sylvanas found her - and she _was_ going out of her way to find her, Jaina was sure of it - was at the Lordaeron Naval base.

A few days before their wedding, Jaina had asked her about the Forsaken navy. Sylvanas calmly told her that they simply took ships from the bottom of the ocean and used the _filthy, waterlogged, hole-filled wrecks_ in battle. That they didn’t even have a naval base. Then she shrugged, like she hadn’t just said one of the worst things Jaina had ever heard.

Jaina had immediately requested (demanded) control of the navy.

It took some doing and enough paperwork to give _even her_ nightmares, but she found that the effort was worth it as her sailors sang a disjointed shanty across the docks while she checked over the new shipment of rope. She had forgotten the words to most of them, after spending so much time in Dalaran, Lordaeron, Stormwind, and everywhere _but_ ‘home’. But she remembered enough to whistle along. 

Time to be down on the docks was sparse - between running a kingdom and still trying to get at least a few hours of sleep every night - but she’d found time to get to know her motley group of Forsaken and Kul Tiran sailors.

(Sure, they’d been wary of each other at first. But, the second her Kul Tirans got it through their heads that the Forsaken were strong, sturdy, and damn hard workers, they’d gone out of their way to befriend them. They’d taught them songs, invited them to the pub that had sprung up down the road, and shown them every sailing trick they knew. She was proud of them for taking to their new allies so quickly. She was disappointed in herself for taking so long.)

So when the mix of voices fell silent - when _all_ sound besides the gentle lap of waves fell silent - all the hair on the back of Jaina’s neck rose with an unnerving tingle. She looked up from the crates of rope, taking in the polarizing expressions of her sailors. The Kul Tirans had gone pale and wide eyed, while the Forsaken stared with open admiration. It wasn’t hard to figure out.

Jaina sighed, then shouted, “You’ve all seen my wife before! We have too much work for you to sit around rubbernecking!”

The noise promptly resumed as they scrambled to get back to work, or to at least look busy while they side eyed the three elves ambling down the dock.

Jaina eyed them hesitantly. Sylvanas had likely come to poke at her more. But she’d never come down to the naval base. They each had their own domains; Sylvanas stayed away from the navy, Jaina stayed away from the army. Seeing her here now… didn’t bother Jaina as much as it should have. In fact, she was almost embarrassed to feel a tiny spark of excitement at the sight of her wife in _her_ place. She was almost embarrassed that the smile she beamed at her wasn’t entirely voluntary.

“Hello, Sylvanas.” She said as she drew close, nodding to the rangers with her. “Clea, Velonara.”

She’d made an effort to actually communicate with the rangers since speaking to Anya, but Velonara still leaned back on her heels at being addressed. Clea simply gave her the ghost of a smile before her eyes returned to scanning their surroundings.

“Hello, wife.” A small smirk curled at her lips. Her gait was steady as she approached, no hint of the limp that ogre had given her - much to Jaina’s relief. “Nice to see our navy up and running. Their synchronized gawking is very impressive.”

Was she trying to be mean or funny? Either way, Jaina chuckled. 

“Thanks, I trained them myself.” 

The smirk almost turned into a smile. Jaina acted like she hadn’t seen.

“To what do I owe the pleasure.”

“I wanted to see what progress you’ve made.” She drawled, gaze roaming over the ships and sailors. There were too few of both, but they were growing. “Though I expected you to take a more supervisory role.”

“They like knowing that their queens are willing to haul crates like the rest of them.” As if to prove her point, she hefted one of the crates - with a featherlight spell of course, she wasn’t trying to throw her back out. She gave Sylvanas a sunny smile and started for the new ship being built at the end of the docks.

Jaina hid her smile as Sylvanas drew up next to her a few moments later with a box of her own. She was finding that Sylvanas did things like this often. Small things - tidying a stack of papers on Jaina’s desk, pulling the hood straight on a passing ranger, nudging something closer when someone reached for it. Jaina wondered if she even knew she was doing it half the time, with how little attention was paid to it.

“We could use more of that strength around here, if you feel like stopping by more often.” Jaina said, trying not to openly ogle Sylvanas’ biceps. She managed to do it subtly. Barely.

Sylvanas glanced at her sidelong, “There seems to be no shortage of muscle among your troops.”

“You’re right.” She admitted easily, “Maybe I just want you around more.”

Sylvanas’ nose wrinkled for a second, but quickly smoothed out to it’s default smirk, ears pricking. “Perhaps it’s just my muscle that you want around more.” The flexing of her arms was no doubt intentional. Because _of course_ she’d seen Jaina looking. And _of course_ she’d be insufferable about it.

“Perhaps.” She muttered, face warm.

“If I’d known you were so desperate for someone to ogle, I would have come sooner.” She snickered.

Her face grew even warmer, despite her efforts to keep the flush at bay. This was _her_ turf, dammit! She’d heard the filthiest things sailors could say, and Sylvanas thought she could just waltz over and fluster her by flexing and smirking?

Well, she could. But that wasn’t the point.

She dropped her crate next to the ship, watching as Sylvanas set hers next to it. “If _I’d_ known that’s all it would take for you to come and show off for me, I would have asked sooner.”

She half expected Sylvanas to hiss at her and turn to smoke at the slightest hint of reciprocation, but she just stared at Jaina, her eyes narrowing slowly. “To think _the_ Jaina Proudmoore has an affinity for corpses.”

“Only one.” She shot back, feeling a bit of her confidence trickle back in. She was nearly forty for Tide’s sake. She could handle flirting with her wife.

“I don’t even have any competition?”

Jaina grinned, shrugging off her coat and setting it aside so she could work on opening the crates. “That depends.”

“On?” A long eyebrow raised.

“How good are you with rope?”

Sylvanas’ eyes widened for a moment, but the look was quickly blinked away. “I have more talent with chains.”

“We can’t make ship rigging out of chains, Sylvanas.” Jaina grinned, pulling coils of rope from the crate. “At least not right now. Come here, I’ll show you.”

To her surprise, Sylvanas actually did come closer. She even proved rather easy to teach, watching intently as Jaina braided the rope together and mimicking it slowly at first - but rather well. It was almost enthralling to watch the way she weaved it with the massive clawed gauntlets she wore. Jaina couldn’t even wear leather gloves while she worked on rigging, at least not without fumbling more than she had time for.

“I always thought you were good with your hands,” She smirked. It seemed that now she’d started, it was hard to stop. “But I never knew just how nimble your fingers were.”

Sylvanas didn’t miss a beat this time, didn’t even look up from her task. “Do you often think of my hands?”

“I will now.”

A strangled sound behind them reminded Jaina that they were not alone. When she looked behind her, Clea was looking a little _too_ much like someone who was absolutely minding their own business, while Velonara stared openly. Ah. There was that blush again.

Sylvanas ears flicked back towards them and her hands paused. “Is there something wrong, Velonara?”

Velonara looked like she had a lot of answers to that question, but simply said, “No. Everything looks clear from here, Dark Lady.”

“Good. Go make sure it’s clear everywhere else as well.”

They didn’t argue, but Clea shot Velonara a glare that she answered with an indignant huff. Then, they were begrudgingly shuffling away.

“Did you just want to get me alone?” Jaina drawled once they were out of sight.

Sylvanas’ eyes found her. There was a flash of… _something_ there. The slight lowering of eyelids, the subtle working of her throat, the parting of her lips - tongue running along teeth.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Jaina blinked, and it was gone. Sylvanas’ gaze was focused solely on the rope again, returning to her work. But she’d _seen_ it. And it certainly didn’t help with the heat spreading up to the tips of her ears - as well as heat spreading in a few other places.

That suddenly threw a whole other factor into this already cluttered minefield. It seemed far too simple to think that Sylvanas was _actually_ flirting with her. She was most likely just prodding again, finding a new button to press. Just because she looked like she wanted to _devour_ her for a moment, didn’t mean that she actually did. At least not with Sylvanas. In fact, Jaina tried very hard not to think about Sylvanas and ‘devour’ in the same sentence. Unsuccessfully.

“I don’t think a dock full of sailors watching our every move counts as getting you alone.” She said, snapping Jaina out of her increasingly debauched thoughts. “I suppose it’s apt to say ‘whatever floats your boat’.”

Jaina snorted and slapped lightly at her pauldron. “Boat metaphors are supposed to be _my_ thing!”

“So sorry, Lord Admiral. I’ll be sure to keep my metaphors morbid.”

Jaina didn’t draw any attention to the small smile on Sylvanas’ face. She wanted it to stay there.

* * *

Sylvanas slunk through the halls of the keep, shoulders sagging under the exhaustion that steadily pressed down on her. The sodden leathers plastered to her body and dripping all over the floor certainly didn’t help.

It had been nearly a month since she’d been home. There had been sightings of naga on the north coast. They’d mostly stayed in the ocean after all that nasty business with N’zoth, but when she’d shown up with her rangers, the place had been crawling with them. It had taken a week to beat them back into the sea, and another two posted at the coast to make sure they stayed there.

Thankfully, the pouring rain had washed the blood from her on the way back, but had left her feeling like a wet cat in need of a nap. She rarely needed sleep, but her soft bed and mountain of blankets were calling to her.

She paused as she noticed light filtering out from under the door of Jaina’s office, frowning. Jaina’s sleep schedule was abysmal, but even she was usually in bed at this time of night.

Before she could continue, the door flung open and nearly startled her out of her skin.

“Sylvanas!”

Sylvanas blinked, forcing her shoulders to relax as Jaina peered up at her. She had expected to creep in, peel off her dripping clothes, and sleep for a few hours before having to deal with any kind of interaction. She tried to muster up some annoyance, but didn’t have the energy.

“Jaina.”

Jaina huffed in what could either be amusement or annoyance. “I haven’t seen you in almost a month and that’s all you have to say.”

“What, did you miss me?” She prodded.

“Yes.” Sylvanas scowled, but Jaina simply stepped closer to look her up and down. “Were you riding through that storm?”

“It seemed efficient to bathe and travel at the same time.”

“You must be freezing.” She tugged insistantly at Sylvanas’ gauntlet until she grumbled and let Jaina pull her in front of her fireplace. Her hands came up to work the buckles on her pauldron. Every stray brush of skin was a static shock that made her clench her teeth to keep from jerking and twitching.

“I suppose you really did miss me, if you insist on undressing me the moment I walk in the door.”

Jaina’s fingers fumbled and the pauldron fell to the ground with a clank. She glared up at Sylvanas for a moment, a blush spreading over the bridge of her nose, before she picked it up and set it on her desk before starting on the other. 

Something loosened in her chest at having the upper hand again, gave her enough control to keep still until the static feeling tapered back to its usual burning warmth - worse now that the rain had chilled her.

Jaina saved her gauntlets for last, carefully undoing the clasps on the soft side of her forearm. “Do you… feel the cold?” She asked suddenly, pausing for a moment before pulling them off.

“It won’t kill me, but it’s not pleasant.” She flexed her bare fingers, frowning at how the cold tinged them even more blue than usual. The thought of how bedraggled, how pallid, how _dead_ , she must look in the light of the fire made her fight to keep her shoulders from hunching. She forced her attention back to Jaina. “Are you offering to warm me up?”

Jaina looked up at her from under her lashes, “Would you let me?”

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes, adamantly ignoring the sudden flash of heat in her stomach. The only hitch to their new game was when Jaina stooped low enough to play along. She had finally found a gap to claw her way through, a sore spot to dig her fingers into, and Jaina was acting like it was _fine_.

“What kind of wife would I be,” She kept her voice light, on the edge of saccharine. “If I let you lower yourself to something as depraved as _touching_ a _banshee_.”

Jaina’s eyebrows knit together, as if she were trying to work out a complicated math problem in her head. It wasn’t the reaction Sylvanas wanted, wasn’t even what she expected. It made a cold wave of apprehension settle on the back of her neck.

“I… don’t follow.” Jaina murmured, head tilting slightly.

“I’m not leading.” She felt suddenly naked without her armor, stripped down to the soaking leathers that clung to her frame. Her eyes found Jaina’s desk, lips pressing into a tight line at how neatly the pieces had been set there, instead of simply dropped to the floor.

Her gaze darted back as Jaina moved. Her hands came up slowly, eyes trained on Sylvanas’ face. Sylvanas stared back. Whatever she was doing, Sylvanas wouldn’t flinch, wouldn’t be the one to blink first. At least, until Jaina’s hands found their goal.

It wasn’t an errant brush of fingers or a stray touch, this time. Her fingers wrapped around the bare skin of Sylvanas’ arms, splayed out to touch as much as possible. “I don’t think it’s depraved to touch you.”

Sylvanas couldn’t reply, could hardly process the words around the heady feel of Jaina’s hands on her, around the unlocking of exhausted muscles that forced her eyes to flutter shut.

They didn’t stop there. They squeezed lightly as Jaina came closer, close enough for her heat to wash distantly over Sylvanas’ front. They skimmed up her arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Sylvanas hadn’t even known she could still get those. When they kneaded into shoulders that fell slack at the touch, she let out a deep, long sigh that shook loose a quiet rumbling in her chest she hadn’t felt in twenty years. She didn’t know that could still happen either.

A hand stayed anchored to her shoulder, while the other slid up to cup her cheek and smooth a gentle thumb over her cheekbone. Every thought sunk into a dark pool where she couldn’t find them anymore. She couldn’t find a reason not to lean into it, couldn’t find a reason not nuzzle her face against it and fill her lungs with the smell of ozone and… sea salt? Jaina must have been down at the docks today.

 _Jaina_.

Her eyes snapped open.

Jaina stared up at her, expression unreadable. Suddenly, a knot of writhing snakes made a home in her stomach. A sharp gasp tore it’s way from her mouth at the feeling, only exacerbating the ice cold feeling creeping up her back.

Jaina blinked up at her, eyes growing wide as she tried to push closer, “Sylvanas, wait-”

Sylvanas scrambled backwards, trying to get her rapid panting under control. She didn’t even _need_ to breathe, why was it so hard?

Her form dispersed, drawing a growl of pain at the speed. It had always been better to let the change roll through her, but the pain of fading too quickly was nothing compared to what would happen if she didn’t leave. Whatever accusation or comment would come from someone who now knew exactly how to hurt her. Belore, she’d been _purring_. She’d practically put a knife in Jaina’s hand and pointed to where she should stab.

She couldn’t even look back as she whipped out of the room.

* * *

A few hours later, Sylvanas was still hiding.

It had been a very long time since she was _just_ hiding. She wasn’t cloaked in darkness, stalking some prey. She wasn’t waiting for the right moment to strike at a powerful foe. She was simply sitting in a corner, lit by one sputtering lamp and hand sharpening every blade in the Lordaeron Armory until their keen edges could cut the air.

It was no secret that, despite fighting tooth and nail for it, Sylvanas didn’t wear peace well. She wasn’t meant to be idle, to have no enemy to focus on. 

The first time she’d lost her temper after the treaty, she’d wrecked one of their meeting rooms. She didn’t even remember why, just remembered excusing herself and stomping down the hall to the first vacant room she came to. She remembered taking her wraith out on furniture and walls. Remembered their faces when they came to find her sitting amidst the wreckage; because giving someone space seemed to be a foreign concept. 

The horror and disgust of the other leaders, Jaina’s cold fury, and even the apprehension of the rangers that refused to meet her eyes had made her hands ball into fists all over again. It was a shock to them that she was still a monster, apparently. After all, they’d married her off to keep that monster under control.

Now she had to find her outlets elsewhere. It was for the best, in the end. Nobody looks at you like you’re about to eat their firstborn if you’re cleaning up the training yards. Nobody thinks you’re scheming something when you bring back food for the city after a long hunting trip. Nobody pays any attention to you at all when you sharpen knives in the armory. It wasn’t perfect, of course. But it was what she had. Besides, there was something soothing about the smooth rasp of whetstone against steel.

She reluctantly sheathed the last blade, at a loss for what to do now. It was well past midnight. Maybe Jaina had gone to sleep, sated with the knowledge that she’d made the Banshee Queen turn tail and run. Sylvanas hoped she had. Belore, she was _exhausted_.

She toyed with the idea of just sleeping in the armory and slinking out to go back to the North Coast in the morning. The only thing stopping her was the inevitability of rangers and dreadguards wandering in to replace their weapons. She’d suffered enough humiliation tonight, being spotted curled up between crates and weapon stands would be too much.

Sylvanas doused the lamp and slipped out of the room. The halls were dark, but not as dark as she’d like. Though the magelights had been extinguished for the night, the tall windows still bathed everything in silver moonlight. It might have been serene, had Sylvanas not wished for the cover of darkness to cloak her retreat.

And had she not been so preoccupied with creeping past Jaina’s door, she may have noticed the soft glow leaking out from under her own before she’d already pushed it open.

She froze in the doorway like a rat caught scurrying across the kitchen floor, gaze roaming the room and finding it much the same as she left it. Everything was in its proper place with a few glaring differences: Her armor was returned to its stand, a fire blazed merrily in the hearth, and Jaina was perched on the edge of her bed.

Her hair was down now, still wavy from being kept in a braid all day. It made her look softer, accentuated by the way the firelight played over her features and blurred everything together.

“Sylvanas.” Sylvanas tensed. Her eyes were… beseeching? Sylvanas couldn’t tell, couldn’t meet them for more than a split second. “Can we talk?”

The tone was all wrong. That was something Jaina was supposed to say in harsh whispers with angry sparks in her eyes. It made the nest of snakes in her stomach more vicious, nipping at her lungs and spreading their icy venom through her limbs.

Was she waiting here to torment her more? Kick her while she was down? She didn’t even have her pride anymore, what else could Jaina take from her?

She braced herself and stepped inside. The door closing behind her sounded a bit too much like a nail being pounded into a coffin, but she ignored that and turned to hang her cloak on the hook beside it. “Why? You’ve already won.”

There was a beat of silence. Sylvanas didn’t turn around. She couldn’t muster up the will to set her shoulders and put some steel in her spine, and wasn’t willing to let Jaina see that.

“... Won?” Hesitant. Cautious. Confused?

Sylvanas grit her teeth.

“Yes. You’ve won. You’ve made your point and had your laugh. You can go about your life knowing that you’ve taught me a lesson.”

“I’m not laughing, Sylvanas.”

“Yes, that would have been far too merciful.” She whirled around, but didn’t move any closer. She knew better than to approach something that could reach out and bite her. She took in Jaina’s wide eyed look, crossing her arms, “Instead, you’ve kept up with this… this ridiculous charade. I _know_ , alright?”

“Know what?” Jaina asked slowly.

So she wanted her to spell it out. To cram even more shame into the empty spaces in herself. As long as it would get her to finally stop, Sylvanas would do whatever the fuck she wanted. “I _know_ that I’m not who I was. I know that any shred of me worth caring for, worth _wanting_ died in Quel’thalas. I know that I’m a fucking monster, Jaina.”

Jaina bolted upright, alarm written all over her face. Sylvanas half expected her to summon an arcane shield around herself or launch a frostbolt. Instead, she took a step forward. Sylvanas took one back, realizing too late that her back was to the door.

“Sylvanas, I don’t think you’re a monster.” She took another step forward, but Sylvanas had nowhere left to go. Jaina’s eyes held a strange softness, but her jaw was set. “I said that I cared about you because I do. I said that I wanted you because _I do_.”

There was the pain she was waiting for. Sylvanas grimaced against that jagged feeling in her chest. She would have _killed_ for those words if they’d been true. If they’d come from someone that didn’t hate her.

Scalding heat pressed into her cheeks. It sunk into her skins, into her bones. Coerced tense muscles to loosen, if only a fraction. Belatedly, she realized it was Jaina’s hands.

“Listen. To. Me.” Jaina bit out the words, staring up into her eyes, “I’m not lying to you.”

Before she could voice the opinion that that’s _exactly_ what a liar would say, her face was yanked down. Searing lips smashed into hers - graceless but sweetly, mercifully _honest_ . A low groan wrenched itself from her throat, every thought blasted from her head by something so wickedly sharp that it threatened to cut her open. But _gods_ , did it feel _so fucking good_. 

Her fingers dug into the door behind her as they moved earnestly against her mouth. Jaina pulled back - Just a little, just enough to drag in ragged, shuddering breaths that puffed out against Sylvanas’ face.

“I’m not lying to you.” Jaina repeated. Her voice was breathless but firm, brooking no argument. Sylvanas didn’t want to argue, for once. Didn’t want to risk Jaina moving even an inch away, despite the little voice that jeered at her for it.

Jaina’s hands fell from her face. A flare of panic gripped her chest, only for something far lighter to wash it away when arms wound around her shoulders and squeezed. Sylvanas heaved in a gasping breath, the scent of ozone and sea salt washing over her tongue strong enough to choke.

She swallowed hard, moving her hands an inch at a time. Carefully, more carefully than she’d ever done anything, she pressed them to Jaina’s back. The effect was immediate. A long breath washed over her ear and Jaina’s warmth melted against her, body slack in her arms.

“That feels nice.” Jaina sighed, letting her head rest on her shoulder. Sylvanas’ eyelids fluttered at the feeling, at the thought that anything she did to someone could feel _nice_. Jaina’s hands kneaded at her shoulder blades, pausing when Sylvanas’ chest began to rumble. “Are you okay?”

The question took a moment to penetrate the thick layer of fog that had settled over Sylvanas’ thoughts. Even then, she didn’t know if she wanted to answer it. Didn’t know if she _could_. How was she supposed to tell her that she had no idea what was happening to her? That she was torn between wanting to hold onto Jaina for as long as she could, and running as fast and as far as her legs could take her?

“Yes.” She lied, voice rasping harshly on the way out.

Jaina looked up at her face, eyebrows knit together. “Do you want me to stop?”

Sylvanas sucked in a sharp breath, about to snatch her hands away, but Jaina pressed closer; held her tighter. 

“I don’t want to.” She assured, “I’m asking if _you_ want me to.”

Sylvanas swallowed hard and tried to compose herself. It was hard when every logical thought was slipping through her weak grasp. She didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to admit to another weakness. But, as the heat permeated her body, she decided that she didn’t care. She didn’t care if it was a trick or an act or some kind of scheme. She didn’t care that Jaina would hurt her, because this feeling - being stroked and held and wanted like something precious - was worth whatever consequences were in store for her.

Her voice was quiet when she finally found it. “No.”

“Then I won’t.”

Sylvanas breathed out a sigh of relief, feeling weak for it, feeling pathetic for wanting Jaina pressed against her. The feeling didn’t hold up against Jaina threading a hand through her hair to scratch lightly at her scalp. She groaned and pulled her closer, burying her face in Jaina’s neck where the scent of ozone grew strongest.

A breathy sound met her ears, muffled and low. The steady drip of heat sinking into her grew to something molten and heady, but her body froze. Sylvanas pulled back to see a vibrant flush coating her cheekbones and the freckled bridge of her nose. “Jaina?”

“I’m - I’m sorry.” Jaina muttered.

She blinked, nose wrinkled in confusion. “Why are you sorry? I’m the one - I overstepped. I apologize.” She forced her hands away from Jaina and let them hover in the air, unsure what to do with them now.

“That’s not…” Jaina’s face screwed up, the flush rising all the way to the tips of her ears. “I _like_ it when you touch me. It’s just - you’re already overwhelmed. I don’t want to make it worse.”

Sylvanas turned that over in her head. Rather, she tried to. It was mostly just ‘ _I like it when you touch me_ ’ looping over and over like an echo in an empty valley. She _was_ overwhelmed, but that hardly mattered when Jaina _wanted_ Sylvanas to touch her.

“I like touching you.” That admission was easier than the last.

“You can.” Jaina said quickly, “You can touch me.”

Sylvanas would have snorted at the naked eagerness in her tone if it didn’t make her feel like her chest was about to burst open. If it hadn’t poured a trickle of sorely missed confidence back into her.

Her hands found Jaina’s hips, giving them an experimental squeeze and watching as Jaina’s eyes fluttered shut, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. Sylvanas’ gaze zeroed in on them, watching them part when her hands roamed up her sides. She wanted to taste them again, but was wary of taking more than was offered.

The hand in her hair gave a slight tug and the rumbling in her chest deepened, grew louder. Jaina’s eyes opened, mouth turning to a small, lopsided smile. “When I said you could touch me, I meant all of me.”

Sylvanas was glad her heart didn’t beat, the poor thing would have punched out of her chest and made a run for it. She nipped lightly at Jaina’s lower lip, galvanized further by the shudder that ran through her. “Be patient.”

“Patient?” Another tug at her hair. “I’ve wanted your hands on me for _weeks_ Sylvanas.”

A low growl left her as she pushed off of the door, turning them to press Jaina back against it. She let her lips skim up Jaina’s neck until a spot just below her ear made her back arch. She spoke against it, relishing the quiet groan it spurred. “Weeks?”

“Yes-” She cut herself off with another groan as Sylvanas’ thigh pressed hard between hers. Her hips rolled, and she let out a happy sigh, “ _Fuck_ \- that feels good.”

“It’d be even better with fewer clothes, no?” Sylvanas tugged lightly at the sash of her robes, waiting until she felt Jaina’s head nod quickly before pulling it loose.

Pulling away from Jaina was torture, but she needed to see her. She looked down, watching her shrug the robe from her shoulders and let it pool on the ground. Her eyes flicked up to Jaina’s face, seeing her smile still in place - though with an even deeper flush. Finally, her hands found Jaina’s skin, trailing along curves and dips, tracing a few faded silver scars at her side.

Jaina tugged her down into a breathy kiss, groaning deep in her throat when Sylvanas’ tongue licked into her mouth and her thumbs found hard nipples. Sylvanas couldn’t help but press forward, press them together again. Even through her leathers, she could feel soft curves molded against her.

“Sylvanas, please.” Jaina whined against her lips, grinding restlessly against her. Sylvanas shuddered hard. Jaina didn’t have to beg. Sylvanas was sure she’d do just about anything she asked.

Her hand travelled down her chest, stomach, until she found slick folds. Belore, she was _dripping_. She let her fingers slip slowly over Jaina’s clit and she let out a quiet whimper that made Sylvanas’ toes curl in her boots - her eyes squeezed shut, swollen lips parted. She watched the ever shifting expression as her fingers mapped out spots that made her buck and groan.

“Inside, please.” She murmured, breathy and high.

Sylvanas growled against her cheek. It quickly turned to a groan as two fingers pressed easily inside. Jaina released her hair, nails digging into the back of her neck instead while her other hand scrambled for purchase at her shoulder blades. Sylvanas curled and twisted her fingers, trying to memorize every motion that made her breath stutter, trying to memorize how it felt to be inside of her. Jaina’s breath came in hot puffs against Sylvanas’ twitching ear. “More. And harder. I won’t break, Sylvanas.”

Sylvanas’ own breath faltered. She lifted one of Jaina’s thighs up around her hip, giving her enough room to slip another finger in beside the others and increase her pace until Jaina’s body jolted with every thrust.

“Like this?” She husked against her neck, biting lightly at the pulse she found there. The way Jaina repeated the first syllable of her name in broken, keening moans was answer enough. More so the way her back arched away from the door. They way her nails dug into her back as she tightened around her fingers.

Sylvanas pressed her harder against the door as she writhed, pressing a thumb to her clit. Her ears perked at the short choppy moans that vibrated against her neck as she came, trembling almost violently against her.

It took effort to slow her pace, to give Jaina time to breath. But she didn’t fully stop until the rhythmic squeezing of her fingers did. It felt like a loss to pull her fingers from Jaina’s dripping heat, to let her leg slip from her hip. Or, it did until Jaina’s hand wrapped around her wrist and brought her fingers to her mouth. 

Her hips gave an unsteady jolt as Jaina sucked herself off her fingers, core aching fiercely. She didn’t wait for Jaina to initiate this time, capturing her lips and chasing the taste of her. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. She pulled away, looking down at Jaina’s flushed face. 

“Can I-” Her mouth snapped shut as her thoughts finally caught up with her actions. Trust her to try and take more than what she’d already been given. She didn’t even -

“Anything.” Jaina rasped. The hand at the back of her neck gave a little squeeze as she leaned up to plant a quick, soft kiss on Sylvanas’ mouth. “Whatever you want, Sylvanas.”

She wanted to argue, wanted to point out just how much Jaina had already done, had already given her. Wanted to argue that that was a dangerous offer, when Sylvanas hadn’t even told her what she wanted. But she could _smell_ her, could practically taste her on the air. So she didn’t argue. Instead, she pressed her lips to Jaina’s throat, tongue flicking out to taste the salt on her skin, before sinking to her knees.

The curious look Jaina aimed down at her quickly shifted to that eagerness that sapped the steel from Sylvanas’ spine and left her languid and purring. Sylvanas nuzzled into her thighs and trailed her tongue along the wet skin, being mindful of her teeth as she sucked marks into them until she could feel fine tremors under her lips. 

She sat back on her heels to admire the scattered marks and light bruises. It made something dark and possessive inside of her growl its approval. Would Jaina hate those tomorrow? She viciously shoved the thought away. 

Finally, she pressed a kiss to Jaina’s clit, growling low at the taste of her and the muffled moan that reached her straining ears. The sound rose to a keen as she set her tongue to work. She would have liked to take her time, but she needed more. More of her taste, of the feeling of plush thighs that gave under her hands, those sweet little sounds that poured from her. More of looking up at Jaina and seeing hazy eyes and a smiling lip clutched between her teeth.

One of her hands left Jaina’s thigh to yank at the ties on her breeches. She jolted at the first touch, a low groan escaping against Jaina’s entrance. Her legs wanted to snap closed, too sensitive for the pace she’d set.

“Are you-” Jaina interrupted herself with a gasp, hips rolling, “Are you touching yourself?”

Sylvanas blinked up at her, ears pinning back and fingers pausing despite the painful throb that told her not to. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Tides, _no_ . Don’t stop.” Her hands skimmed over Sylvanas’ cheeks, rubbing at the base of her ears until they lifted a bit. “It’s fucking _hot_.”

The soft feeling in her chest was at odds with the frank words. Her mouth found Jaina again, tongue laving over her clit before sucking it into her mouth. She had to clamp a hand around Jaina’s hip to keep her still as she bucked and squirmed against her, humming in satisfaction as the sharp cries Jaina let out weren’t muffled this time.

When Jaina went slack, all she could do was try to ease her descent until she sat half in Sylvanas’ lap. All she could do was clench her teeth around the moans that tried to escape as she rubbed frantic circles around her clit, and try to keep her flexing thighs from jostling Jaina too much.

Jaina’s lips pressed to her ear, hot breath making her back arch as arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders. A hand in her hair guided her head down to its place buried in Jaina’s neck. “Let me hear you. Please.”

The soft groans dripped from her lips almost against her will. She was learning quickly that she couldn’t refuse when Jaina said ‘please’ in that tone. Her world shrunk down to the heat of Jaina’s body against her, the quiet murmuring in her ear that she couldn’t parse the meaning of. A whine caught in her throat as she trembled through the white hot pleasure that washed over her, gasping against Jaina’s skin.

Jaina pulled her tighter against her as her hand slowed to a stop. Her limbs felt heavy and loose, like a bow unstrung after weeks of nonstop battle, and she couldn’t muster the energy to raise her head from Jaina’s neck.

Jaina’s hands made soothing treks up and down her back, littering her shoulder, neck, and as much of her face as she could reach with featherlight kisses. Now that she’d started touching her, she didn’t seem to be able to stop. Sylvanas didn’t want her to stop.

“Sylvanas?”

Her ear flicked lazily and she grunted. A finger traced along the underside of it and she couldn’t stop the deep sigh that left her, even if she wanted to.

“Are you going to fall asleep?”

“No.” She lied.

Jaina huffed out a quiet laugh, pushing at her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s at least get you to the bed. I know you’re exhausted, sweetheart”

“Sweetheart?” She grumbled, nose wrinkling. Nobody in her long life - and subsequent unlife - had ever called her _sweetheart_. She wasn’t sure if she was confused or annoyed. But, this warm and sated and comfortable, she didn’t have the energy to snap at her. Instead, she drawled, “You’ve gone mad.”

“You’ve had three fingers in me. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to call you sweetheart.”

“You and I have different definitions of unreasonable.”

Jaina laughed quietly, “Do you want me to stop?”

Sylvanas scowled.

* * *

Sylvanas wasn’t sure how she ended up sleeping on her stomach with Jaina sprawled over her back, holding onto her like an overly attached octopus. That didn’t stop her from letting out an annoyed growl when someone knocked on her door. Hadn’t she earned her rest?

She disentangled their limbs and dragged herself out from under Jaina. When she gained a bit of distance, she finally managed to get the incessant pur rumbling in her chest to stop long enough for her to yank the door open and glare at whoever had woken her.

Anya’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates the second she saw her. Sylvanas winced, abruptly aware of how she must appear. Her hair was everywhere, her breeches were unlaced and hanging off of her hips, and she absolutely reeked of sex.

“Not a word.” She growled quietly.

Anya’s hands raised in surrender. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes. She’d known Anya for far too long to think that was anywhere close to the truth. “What do you need?”

“We have the coast cleaned up for the most part. Marrah and Vel are still down there to oversee.” She handed over a few reports, unsubtly trying to look over Sylvanas’ shoulder. “There was quite a bit of property damage, so we’ve taken the liberty of finding a repair crew.”

Sylvanas hummed, skimming through the reports. “Have Marcus make them something and show them to a meeting room, I may be a while.”

Anya’s ears bounced up, mouth opening.

“Not a word.” She repeated, shooting her a glare.

Anya let out a puff of air, half amusement and half disappointment. “ _Fine_ . I won’t comment on your… situation. But I _will_ say that I’m happy for you.”

She probably wouldn’t be so happy if she understood exactly how precarious her _situation_ was. “Duly noted. You’re on leave for the next two days. If I hear you gossiping about this, your next assignment will be as a target dummy.”

“So it’s fine as long as you don’t hear it?”

Sylvanas halfheartedly swiped at her, but Anya easily danced out of the way. She gave her a wide grin and turned on her heel, leaving Sylvanas to scowl at her back.

Grumbling under her breath, she retreated back into her room. It was shaping up to be a long, busy day.

She started for her dresser, but paused to eye the lump under her blankets. Should she wake her up? Chances were that Jaina had appointments today and she didn’t seem anywhere close to waking up on her own. 

But, Sylvanas would much rather be out of sight when she woke. She needed time to process exactly what had happened. Needed time to prepare for whatever consequences the night entailed. She just needed _time_.

She would ask someone to reschedule Jaina’s appointments.


	3. Chapter 3

Lordaeron Keep was lovely at sunset - if you were into ominous, looming castles. Sylvanas absolutely  _ wasn’t _ into ominous, looming castles, but could appreciate the quiet.

The building's shadow stretched across the courtyard, stopping just before the stone bench she sat on; legs stretched out in front of her and her eyes closed. It was still warm from the sun. A luxury she didn’t often enjoy, seeing as she was usually inside this time of day. In fact, she wasn’t in the habit of visiting the courtyard at all.

She wouldn’t say she was avoiding Jaina. She was just… not being where she knew Jaina would be. Or where Jaina could usually find her. She would find Sylvanas eventually, there was no doubt about it. She was far too stubborn and tenacious not to. That,  _ and _ the fact that they lived and worked in the same keep.

Her ears twitched as the sound of footsteps began to grow - too loud to be a ranger. Sylvanas sighed, wondering briefly if thinking about her had somehow summoned her. 

She didn’t open her eyes, but listened closely as they grew closer and closer, until she could hear the rustle of Jaina’s robes as she sat down beside her. She forced her body to stay loose and relaxed, even though her stomach felt like she’d chugged a liter of Blackrock Whiskey.

“Are elves secretly just cats?”

Sylvanas’ eyes snapped open. Of all the things she’d expected - a sharp comment, a dismissive declaration, furious shouting -  _ that  _ was not one of them. She glanced at Jaina, nose wrinkled, “Pardon?”

“With all of the purring, sneaking around, and napping in the sun - it seems likely. I’m tempted to toss a ball of yarn into the ranger’s barracks, just to see what happens.” Jaina grinned up at her, no trace of malice or anger on her face. It was disarming.

“Either the yarn will be full of arrows, or  _ you _ will be full of arrows. Rangers are notoriously twitchy.”

Jaina huffed a quiet laugh, “I ought to avoid it, then. I don't think ‘full of arrows’ is a good look for me.”

“That seems more my style. Though I doubt my healers would agree.”

“I’ll have to take their side on this one.”

“And here I thought we were supposed to present a united front. Our kingdom is going to fall apart.” She drawled, “There will be a rebellion. Riots in the streets. I’ll probably be executed - or at  _ least _ assassinated. All because you won’t let me be a pincushion.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a macabre sense of humor?”

“Everyone cursed enough to be within earshot of it.”

"I don't feel very cursed."

Sylvanas stared at her for a while. Jaina didn’t shrink under it, but maintained her calm smile. She seemed at peace with the silence that fell over them, though it made Sylvanas fight not to squirm.

Finally, Jaina spoke. "Can we talk?"

The words caused Sylvanas' entire body to twitch. She was still trying to wrap her mind around what happened the last time Jaina said those words.

Sylvanas wondered what would happen if she just said 'no', got up, and walked away. That somehow seemed worse. At least this way, no matter the outcome, she would have some form of closure.

"Yes."

Jaina’s eyes widened and she sat up a little straighter, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she managed, "Last night. We had sex."

Sylvanas fought not to roll her eyes, "We did? I thought we had a fight to the death."

Jaina swatted lightly at her gauntlet, lips twitching. "Don't make me laugh, I'm trying to be serious."

"So sorry. Please continue."

"Are you… Okay with that?"

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow, head tilting. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"No. I was the instigator, after all."

"That doesn't negate your ability to regret it." She said, shifting her gaze towards the Keep.

"You think I regret it?"

"I don't know." It was too candid, but too late to take back.

"Then let me be perfectly clear." She leaned forward in an effort to catch Sylvanas' eyes. Eventually, Sylvanas let her. "I don't regret it, Sylvanas. I’m just worried. About you.”

She quelled the instinctive urge to flinch at the words, taking a deep breath in through her nose. “Don’t be. That wasn’t exactly my first time, Jaina.”

“Trust me, I know that.” Jaina snorted.

The slight tug of pride was at odds with the tense anxiety coiled in her muscles. Life - and undeath - would be so much less exhausting if she were limited to one emotion at a time.

“I mean what you said - before that. I… don’t think we’ve been on the same page. I don’t think we are now, either.” Jaina paused, biting her lip. “I need to know how I made you feel that way. I need to make sure I don’t do it again.”

_ Or to make sure she can do it whenever she wants, _ the paranoid part of her crowed. Sylvanas elected to ignore it. Or at least shelf the idea for now, because she knew better than to think it would ever actually go away. 

She looked back at the keep, finding that telling the truth and maintaining eye contact were too difficult to do at the same time. “You lied to me.”

“What do you mean?” Jaina’s eyebrows drew together.

“You  _ hate _ me. Most do, but you were honest about it. You never hesitated to tell me exactly what you thought.” She stifled the urge to bounce her leg, to tuck her hands under her arms, to do anything but remain as still as possible. “Then you just… stopped. You acted like the ones that simper and fawn over me so they can dig a knife into my back the second I look away. It doesn’t make sense.”

She could see Jaina blinking up at her with wide eyes in her peripheral vision. It made her want to crawl out of her skin. “I haven’t lied to you, Sylvanas.”

“ _ Bullshit _ .” She snapped before she could regulate her tone.

“I  _ did _ hate you.” She admitted quickly, “But, I don’t anymore. In fact, I’m rather fond of you.” 

"Just like that?" Sylvanas asked, incredulous.

“Not quite. I was tired of fighting. So when I found a way to stop, I did. After that, after I stopped seeing you as an  _ enemy _ , everything else started falling into place.” She sighed quietly, “I know that I’m not explaining it very well, but I’m not sure how else to say it.”

Sylvanas’ shoulders hunched. That didn’t sound like something she could trust. It was one of those things dangled in front of her, to be ripped away when she grasped for it. But, it made an uncomfortable amount of sense. Not enough for her to reach for it, but maybe enough to not shove it away. 

Jaina was efficient, after all. She was intelligent and clever, but was never the one to flank an enemy when she could just barrel straight down the middle and save time. Of all the ways Jaina could hurt her, Sylvanas could admit it wasn’t the most efficient. 

But it would be the most thorough. The most devastating.

Sylvanas finally looked back at her. Jaina sat patiently, not pushing or prodding. Just waiting.

“Let’s say you’re not lying.”

A small smile quirked her lips. “That’s what I  _ have _ been saying.”

“Let’s say that you don’t hate me and don’t plan to stab me in the back the first chance you get.” Well, not the first chance. Sylvanas had given her many chances already… “What exactly do you want from me? Not hating me is one thing, but you’re...” She trailed off. She had no idea what it was Jaina was doing. It seemed leagues above not hating her.

Jaina was silent for a long moment, her hands fidgeting with each other in her lap. Finally, quietly, she said,“I want to know you a bit better. Or at least understand you in some capacity that’s not just ‘that woman I’ve been fighting with for over a year’.”

Sylvanas blinked slowly, her nose wrinkling as she rolled the words over in her head. “That’s it?”

“Well, if you’d like to keep fucking me against doors, that would be fine too.” Jaina laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to other locations. Your bed is very comfortable.”

“Good to know my fumbling made a good impression.” She mumbled. She didn’t know how to tell Jaina that she used to be better. That she used to be poised and confident, radiant and intuitive. That she felt like a clumsy teenager all over again and -if Jaina really was being honest- that she deserved better than that.

“Fumbling?” Jaina snorted, “If that’s fumbling, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to walk when you hit your stride, sweetheart.”

Oh. That was still jarring. “I don’t know why you insist on calling me that. There is nothing  _ sweet _ about me.” She grumbled.

Jaina settled her hand just above her gauntlet, lancing warmth into the bare skin there, and Sylvanas stared at it. It was a shock, every single time. Even after touching her a whole lot more the night before, it still seemed to loosen everything holding her together. At least now, she had a bit more experience with it. 

“Sure there is, you’re just not looking right. Besides, you still haven’t told me you don’t like it.” Her smile slowly fell as she followed Sylvanas’ gaze. Her grip loosened a fraction. “Is this… not good?”

Sylvanas gave a jerky shake of her head. “It’s fine.”

“But?” Jaina asked, something like concern falling over her face.

“I’m just not used to it.” She said, satisfied that her voice came out steady. “It’s… a lot. The touching. Believe it or not, there aren’t many people with your blasé attitude about touching a corpse. I’ve had about twenty years to fall out of the habit.”

“Is it too much? Do you want me to stop?” Jaina frowned, but -thankfully- didn’t look like she pitied Sylvanas.

She placed her hand over Jaina’s, careful to keep her gauntlet from scratching at soft skin. “You don’t have to stop.”

Jaina’s hand gave a tentative squeeze, her smile coming back. 

Sylvanas smirked, "Besides, if you're going to be in my bed, I'll have to get used to it. You cling like a horny sea monster."

"I do not!" Jaina gasped, then scowled, "Alright, maybe I do. But you have six blankets on your bed, Sylvanas! Six! It was either hold on to you or die of heatstroke. Even then, I had to flip you over halfway through the night when your chest got too warm."

Sylvanas snickered, then -when she couldn’t hold it anymore- threw her head back and laughed.

* * *

Everything seemed to shift after that.

She still went about her day as usual, but now there was a touch to her shoulder when they passed in the halls. Jaina would come to some of her meetings and sit with an arm pressed against hers, or a hand on her knee.

Then, there was Jaina’s incessant need to  _ hold hands _ of all things. It was usually when they were walking side by side in the less travelled halls of the keep. The first few times, she’d left Sylvanas’ gauntlet on. But as she grew bolder, she’d remove it and carry it in her other hand as they walked.

(Anya would never know how close she came to death the day that she witnessed it and had the audacity to  _ smirk _ at her. Fortunately for her, using a bow took two hands, and Jaina had possession of one of them.)

There didn’t seem to be a purpose to any of it besides the act itself. In fact, the only criteria for Jaina touching her was to be within touching distance.

It was only when she found herself staring at the door to Jaina’s office a week later that she realized she had begun to crave it.

Something had itched faintly at the back of her mind all day, and now that she stood in front of Jaina’s office she realized what it was. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jaina all day. It was uncomfortable that she suddenly cared about that. She stared at the door for a moment, tempted to just stalk back to her office. Gods knew she had her own heap of paperwork to work through. 

“Sylvanas?” It was muffled through the door.

Caught. Sylvanas frowned. She could still leave, of course. But if Jaina already knew she was here, she would know if she turned tail and ran. After another moment of hesitation, she pushed open the door. “How did you know I was here?” 

Jaina looked up from her work, a small smile on her face. “You ooze necromantic energy. Once you attune to it, it’s rather easy to recognize.”

“Attuned?”

“You’re married to a mage.” Jaina shrugged. Her face fell a bit and she turned back to her desk, “I... should have done it a lot sooner. Better late than never, I suppose. 

“So what do you need? If you’re here to give me more paperwork, I’m going to kick you out. I’m almost done.” She waved at the few papers left on her desk.

“No paperwork.” She took a few slow steps inside. 

Jaina’s head tilted curiously. “If not paperwork, then what?”

Sylvanas froze midstep. She’d found Jaina. Now what? She scrambled for a reason, opened her mouth, closed it, scrambled some more, then finally settled on, “Just making sure you haven’t wasted away. I haven’t seen you ransack the kitchen today.”

“Marcus brought me something earlier.” The corners of her eyes crinkled, “Worried about me?”

Sylvanas snorted, folding her arms. “No. I’m quite sure you can take care of yourself.”

Jaina rested her chin on her fist, smile growing. “So you just missed me?”

Sylvanas stiffened. The feeling - that  _ itch _ \- now had a name, now contextualized her presence. She came and bothered Jaina while she was in the middle of her work just because she missed her? Pathetic. 

“You’re busy. I’ll leave.”

Jaina blinked rapidly at the sudden shift in tone, sitting up a bit. “You don’t have to leave just because I’m busy.”

“I recall you saying once that my presence was not… conducive to your productivity.” 

Jaina snorted, “You’re being nice. I believe my exact words were ‘I can’t fucking work with a banshee looming over me’. But you’re not looming.” She turned back to her work, quill scratching, “In fact, I think you’re being delightful company.”

“Nobody has accused me of that before.” Sylvanas muttered. She looked around the neat office, feeling out of place. She wanted to be there, but the thought of being a nuisance just to sate her own misguided longing was unappealing.

She scowled to herself. Why  _ didn’t _ she want to bother Jaina? She used to thrive on it. All it took was one orgasm to completely change the way she acted? It was tempting to strut over and push the pile of papers off Jaina’s desk, just to spite… who? Jaina? She doubted Jaina would be particularly bothered when she could just wave her hand and have all of them back in their place. Herself? What was the point?

She wavered at the door for a moment before letting out an annoyed grunt at her own indecision. “Do you want me to be here?”

“Yes.” Jaina said, matter of fact. She didn’t even look up from her work. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

It was strange how Sylvanas’ shoulders relaxed; all of her nerves abruptly soothed. Just last week, that would have made her sneer. She’d be unnerved by it if she weren’t too busy being relieved. 

Her steps were silent as she stalked closer, perching neatly on Jaina’s desk. It was almost magnetic, the way Jaina’s free hand reached out and felt around until it found Sylvanas’. She watched as her fingers drew little nonsensical patterns on the back of it, trying not to jerk away at the warmth. It wasn’t as bad, now that she’d grown used to it. But that didn’t stop the shocking intensity. But it was  _ nice,  _ so she settled to watch Jaina work.

When the last paper was signed, Jaina stood and stretched. “This is the clearest my desk has been since we got married.”

“Impressive.” Sylvanas murmured, far more concerned with the retreat of Jaina’s hand. It left her own feeling suddenly cold.

She watched Jaina tidy the stack of papers and start placing everything back in its place, unsure of how to prompt her to touch her again. Or she could just…

The words ‘I like it when you touch me’ resurfaced, bringing a sharp heat in the pit of her stomach with them. She buried it, smothered it.

She stood, nudging Jaina’s chair out of the way so she could step behind her. Jaina’s spine straightened and her head turned enough to give Sylvanas a curious look. But the look softened, turned to a smile when Sylvanas’ hands tentatively settled on her hips. 

It was still warm, still electric, but there was a measure of control now that  _ she _ was doing the touching. She liked it. 

“Is this…?” She trailed off, unsure how to ask.

“Yes.” Jaina said quickly, leaning back against Sylvanas’ chest. 

Sylvanas let her arms wind around Jaina’s stomach and squeeze, pressing her more firmly against her. The rumbling started up in her chest as Jaina relaxed against her, body going slack and soft. Letting Sylvanas hold her weight, like she was a safe place to rest. It made her chest clench almost violently.

“You give really good hugs.” Jaina murmured, letting out a long sigh and tipping her head back to rest against Sylvanas’ shoulder.

Ah. That’s what she was doing, wasn’t it? She tried not to flinch at the thought, not wanting to give any reason for Jaina to move away. “I seemed to recall that ‘warm’ was an adjective associated with good hugs.”

Jaina chuckled quietly, turning her head to place an unexpected kiss to her cheek. “Body heat is overrated. Who needs it when you’ve got arms like these?” Her hand pressed into Sylvanas’ before running along her forearms and biceps.

“Say that when you start shivering.” Jaina’s ozone scent wrapped around her, filling her lungs and making her ears droop. She sought it out, finding it strongest just beneath her ear and pressing her face there, smirking slightly when Jaina’s body shuddered against her. “See? There it is already.

“I’m a frost mage, Sylvanas. I  _ like _ the cold.” She chuckled. Sylvanas hummed against her neck, not agreeing but not arguing. Jaina’s hand suddenly gripped Sylvanas’ forearm, as if she was worried she’d pull away. As if Sylvanas could even bring herself to pull away. “And I  _ definitely _ like whatever it is you’re doing.”

Sylvanas wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing. The word  _ nuzzling _ came to mind, but she swatted it away like a particularly disgusting bug. Instead she asked, “What else would you like me to do?”

“Whatever you want.” Jaina breathed, closing her eyes.

The heat that Sylvanas had managed to smother came back with a vengeance. She growled at the feeling and Jaina shuddered again, squeezing her arm tighter.

What  _ did _ she want? She wanted to fuck Jaina against her neat desk. She wanted to curl up on top of her and take a long nap. She wanted to know what Jaina wanted, and not just what she’d let her do. 

She growled again, feeling goosebumps rise where her lips met Jaina’s neck. 

Oh. She knew what she wanted.

Her lips parted against skin, pressing her teeth lightly against it. Just to test. Jaina pushed into it, letting out a series of eager, breathy noises that immediately made her want to hear more. Her teeth pressed, just enough to sate that urge, but not enough to break the soft skin. Jaina let out a sharp cry at that, hips jolting. She lapped at the indents her teeth left, thrilled at the feel of them against her tongue. 

“Again?” Jaina asked, voice unsteady. “Please?”

The purr rumbling in her chest grew louder and she bit down a bit higher up her neck harder than she intended. She stiffened at the taste of blood on her tongue, but the long groan Jaina released soothed her before she could even begin to pull away. Belore, it was hard not to just lose herself in the sensation of Jaina moving against her.

“Sylvanas,” Jaina panted, tugging at her hands. Sylvanas’ ears twitched hard at the sound of it. “Let me turn around.”

Sylvanas frowned at the thought of separating -even for a moment- but loosened her grip, just enough for Jaina to wiggle around until they were facing each other. Her hands came up to frame Sylvanas’ face as soon as they could, holding her in place as Jaina kissed her. 

Her muscles went soft and languid, eyes slipping shut as a soft groan escaped her chest. When Jaina pressed slow kisses to her upper lip, then the lower, it was somehow better than digging her teeth into her neck.

Jaina’s hands slid down her neck, over her chest, to push up the hem of her shirt and splay out against the bare skin of her stomach. Her muscles twitched at the contact and the heat. Sylvanas sank further into her, letting her tongue play at the hint of blunt teeth that caught at her lip. She wanted  _ more _ . Her hands grasped Jaina’s hips, ready to just sit her on the desk, but the sound of knuckles wrapping against wood filtered into her senses.

She opened her eyes at the interruption, not quite registering what it was until it came again. The door. Her ears pinned back and a jagged growl ripped its way out of her throat, loud enough to be heard on the other side.

“What is it?” Jaina called. Her hands retreated from Sylvanas’ stomach - much to her displeasure - to stroke soothing treks up and down her back.

There was a pause, then, “Uh, Lor'themar is here to see the Dark Lady?” It was Kalira, voice tentative, apologetic.

Sylvanas clenched her teeth on another growl, clawing at some semblance of composure.

“Will you tell him that she’s - um - indisposed for the night?” Jaina asked, voice strained.

“I tried that, Lady Proudmoore. He says it’s urgent.”

“It’s going to be very urgent when I make him dig his own grave.” Sylvanas muttered.

Jaina snorted quietly, letting her head fall against Sylvanas’ shoulder. “Don’t kill him.”

“Won’t let me get shot full of arrows, won’t let me kill Lor’themar. No fun at all.”

“I think we were having a lot of fun a minute ago…” she murmured, warm breath washing over Sylvanas’ ear.

Sylvanas shuddered, eyeing a bare spot on Jaina’s neck.

“If we leave him there any longer, he’s going to come looking for you.” Kalira’s voice sounded even more regretful now, bordering on mournful.

Sylvanas let a deep breath hiss through her teeth. She wasn't sure where the will to untangle herself from Jaina came from, but she managed it; and felt immediately bereft. “If entirety of Silvermoon isn’t on fire, I’m going to-”

“ _ Don’t kill him _ .” Jaina repeated.

Sylvanas thought it over for a few moments. “Fine. He’d better send you a gilded thank you note and a bottle of wine for saving his life.”

“I’ll just take getting you back.” She said, smiling.

That wasn’t fair. 

It felt like someone had reached into her chest to shake her ribcage around a bit.

Sylvanas grumbled. “I don’t think you’ll get me back soon. He has a habit of explaining a five minute problem in three hours.”

Jaina sighed. “Then I suppose you should get it over with.” She paused for a moment, then yanked Sylvanas into another deep kiss that tore a groan from her. When she let her go, Sylvanas wanted to leave the room even less. But she didn’t have much of a choice.

She turned and stalked out of the office, ready to  _ not _ kill Lor’themar.

“Sylvanas?” Kalira asked, having to jog to keep pace with her.

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes. “Yes?”

“Your, uh…” She motioned to her own stomach. Sylvanas stopped, looking down. Her shirt was still pushed up to bunch just under her breasts.

Jaina hadn’t said anything about  _ maiming  _ him.

* * *

Jaina flitted about her sitting room, setting out trays of cookies and honey cakes. By the time she opened the portal, snacks covered most of the low coffee table and the tea - watered down and sickeningly sweet, just the way Vereesa liked it - was poured.

A smile bloomed on Vereesa’s face the second she hopped through the portal. She swept Jaina into a quick, tight hug before they settled on the couches, her mouth already running a mile a minute. “Jaina! It’s been far too long! I swear, every time I get a day off I feel like I’m emerging from a cave after not having seen daylight in  _ years _ . How are you do-” Her mouth snapped shut, smile frozen uncomfortably in place as her eyes zeroed in on Jaina’s neck.

Jaina could already feel the heat trying to pool in her cheeks. Tides, she should’ve worn a shirt with a higher collar. “I’m doing really well, Vereesa. How are you and the boys?”

“ _ Jaina. _ ” Vereesa said slowly, wrapping both hands around her tea cup, “You’re either having a  _ literally _ apocalyptic affair, or a  _ lot _ has changed since we last spoke.”

Jaina should have known better than to think she could dodge out of an interrogation so easily.

“A lot has changed.” Vereesa relaxed a fraction at that, “Sylvanas and I have come to an… agreement, of sorts.”

“ _ Agreement _ ? Jaina, you look like you got mauled by a worgen. That seems like a bit more than an agreement.”

“I just took what you said last time to heart.” She felt a small smile tug at her lips as Vereesa’s eyebrows shot up.

“You learned how to cry on command?” Vereesa snagged a cookie from the table and - to Jaina’s eternal disgust - dunked it in her tea. “I’m impressed. It took me years to learn that. But I don’t see how crying all over my sister led to-”

“No, I was  _ nice _ to her.”

Vereesa’s eyebrows rose even further. “So what, you called her pretty and now you’re in love.” She grimaced as half of her cookie broke off and sank to the bottom of her cup.

“Tides,  _ no _ . Calling her pretty was catastrophic!” She laughed at Vereesa’s confused look, “It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

Vereesa rolled her eyes. “It’s  _ Sylvanas _ . Everything that has to do with her is more complicated than arcane theory.”

“Well, arcane theory really isn’t that-”

“Don’t even start!” Vereesa warned, shaking the remaining half of her cookie at Jaina threateningly, “Every time I hear about it, it’s just more confusing. I just want to shoot my arrows and call it a day. I don’t need to think about mana and arcs and - and  _ reagents _ .”

“What I’m trying to say,” Jaina sighed, “Is that we’re sort of on the same page. Well, we’re at least reading the same book now. We still have a lot of things to work out, but we’re actually  _ working _ on them. Slowly.”

Vereesa stared at her for a long moment, nibbling on her cookie. Finally, she asked, “But you’re okay?” She kept her eyes pinned to Jaina’s, as if waiting for her to blink out an S.O.S. 

Thinking that she’d given Vereesa such a low opinion of Sylvanas with her constant ranting made her want to grimace. Instead, she nodded. “Yes, I’m okay.”

Vereesa leaned back on her couch, a small smile on her face. “Then I’m glad. Besides the whole-” She motioned to her neck, “You look good. Happier.”

Jaina opened her mouth, but closed it when she felt the swell of necromantic magic that foretold her wife's appearance - not to mention the little flip of her stomach that was less magical and more her own anticipation. As expected, the door behind Vereesa swung open.

Sylvanas only made it a couple of steps past the threshold before she froze, ears pinning back. Vereesa’s, however, shot straight up. Jaina watched curiously as her wife’s posture straightened and her face went carefully neutral.

“Bringing her into the heart of her kingdom? I see your treason has grown even bolder, wife.” She drawled. “Hello, Vereesa.”

Jaina waited for fury, or even just annoyance, but what used to be a sore spot felt more like an inside joke. Harmless and a little funny. She gave Sylvanas a smile, delighted when one of her ears perked up a bit. 

A little thrill went through her as she realized that Sylvanas had sought her out again. The last time she’d done it, Jaina had damn near vibrated out of her chair with excitement. Even if they’d been interrupted, Sylvanas had still come to her, had still touched her of her own volition, had still held her for no other reason than she  _ wanted _ to. It felt good for someone to want to be around her again.

Now, Sylvanas’ body was half turned, as if she didn’t know whether to push forward or retreat. The uneven cock of her ears made her look uncertain.

“Do you want to come sit with us?” Jaina asked carefully. The last time she’d seen Sylvanas and Vereesa interact, it had been… tense. Nothing more than a brief greeting and a speedy retreat on Sylvanas’ part, and Vereesa had been out of sorts for the rest of the day.

Sylvanas’ ears switched positions, the other perking up while the first laid back. Red eyes darted back and forth between Jaina’s calm smile and Vereesa’s wide eyes. Finally, she stepped slowly into the room, muttering, “I suppose it’s not treason if we’re both in on it.”

Vereesa flashed her a bright smile that looked like it almost changed her mind. But it didn’t. Sylvanas sauntered over, deliberately calm, and sat down so close to Jaina that their arms brushed.

_ That _ was a bit startling. As much as Jaina had grown used to touching her, as much as she had gone out of her way to do it, Sylvanas had only recently begun to reciprocate. Hesitantly, tentatively,  _ privately _ . Having her practically snuggled into Jaina’s side where someone - _ Vereesa _ , of all people - could see was a shock.

The sisters stared at each other, both a bit uncomfortable. So, Jaina took charge. “I was just about to ask Vereesa how the boys are doing.” She said, trying to project as much calm confidence as she could, despite not quite feeling it.

Sylvanas leaned back and let her long legs splay out under the coffee table. Her arms rose as if she were about to fold them, but settled along the back of the couch. Jaina was tempted to lean back against the one behind her, but Sylvanas’ comfort zone was still a big question mark.

“I heard that Galadin is an apprentice mage.” Sylvanas said, her voice even. “How is it working for him?”

Vereesa’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Besides a small incident that cost me all of my dishes, he’s learning quickly. They say he has a lot of potential.”

“And Girimar? He’s angling to be a ranger, isn’t he?”

“Oh, yes! I swear, he’s a lot better at it than I was at his age.” She laughed, pride radiating off of her in waves.

Something tugged at the corner of Sylvanas’ mouth, but didn’t quite complete the movement. “And you?” Her voice was carefully blank, face impassive. But Jaina could feel the subtle tense of muscle in the thigh pressed against hers.

She wasn’t the only one that saw through it. Vereesa stared at her for a long, cautious moment before a smile split her face. “I’m… I’m doing better.”

That seemed to shave off a bit of the tension, things relaxing after that. They deftly skirted any topics heavier than a pleasant chat - but it was just that.  _ Pleasant. _

Even more pleasant was the way Sylvanas’ arm subtly settled around her shoulders, rather than the couch. They way her fingers toyed with the seam on her shoulder. It was small, but it filled Jaina’s chest up with something warm. She found herself leaning into Sylvanas’ side, breathing in the scent of incense that always seemed to stick to her and trying not to smile too hard.

Vereesa - bless her soul - never even commented on it. She was satisfied with rambling about everything from what she had for breakfast, to what to get the twins for next Winterveil - despite it being months away.

When she opened the portal for Vereesa to go home, she seemed as bright as ever. (Though that didn’t last long. Jaina could hear the mischievous cackling of young boys and the beginnings of a scolding before the portal snapped shut.)

“Well,” Jaina said, glancing at Sylvanas as she tidied up the table. Vereesa had torn through the assorted snacks like she hadn’t eaten in several days. “That went rather well.”

Sylvanas nodded slowly, eyes vacantly staring at where the portal had been. “Considering no one got shot or started crying, that’s a safe description.”

“That’s an overwhelming success in my family.” Jaina laughed. “There’s still some tea left if you want some.”

Sylvanas blinked, her eyes finally finding Jaina. She may not have seen Sylvanas eat, but she knew for a fact that she enjoyed wine. Maybe tea was another one of those things?

Finally, she nodded. Jaina poured her a cup, more thankful than ever that she’d charmed the teapot to stay hot. She tried not to watch too closely, but couldn’t help her own curiosity as Sylvanas stared at it for a moment before taking a sip.

Her ears flattened so quickly that Jaina was surprised it didn’t knock her head back with the force. She lowered the cup, swallowing hard and clearing her throat. “I see that Little Moon still takes her tea like an  _ absolute savage. _ ”

Jaina let out a surprised laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. “She’s always taken it like that?”

“Yes.” Jaina thought that was all the answer she was going to get, but after a long moment, Sylvanas continued. 

“The first time she ever had tea was at the Equinox Feast, in the court of the sun.” She placed the cup on top of the other dishes. “The second she tasted it, she screamed - in front of the king and every noble in Silvermoon - that it was too spicy. I think Minn’da’s soul left her body.”

Jaina’s laugh was more of a cackle this time.

Even more than amusement, she just felt… happy. Sylvanas hadn’t ever told her something like that before.

Jaina really liked cupping Sylvanas’ face. Judging by the purr that emanated from her chest every time, it was safe to say that Sylvanas liked it too. This time was no different. Sylvanas’ head tilted curiously as she approached, but the rumbling started the second she reached up to hold cold cheeks.

“Thank you.” She murmured, leaning up to press a soft, sweet kiss to Sylvanas’ lips.

Sylvanas groaned quietly against her lips but, when Jaina pulled back, her nose was wrinkled in confusion. “For what?”

“Telling me that. Spending time with us. A lot of things. I really enjoyed it.” Jaina smiled at the way Sylvanas’ ears strained upwards at the words. Maybe that was another thing Sylvanas liked. “It made me really happy.”

The purr in Sylvanas’ chest grew louder, deeper - Jaina couldn’t stop herself from kissing her again, even softer this time. Her lips trailed along Sylvanas’ cheeks, her nose, her brow.

“I…” Her voice was nearly drowned out by the rumbling, still confused and a bit dazed. “You’re welcome?”

Jaina beamed.

* * *

Jaina enjoyed her new schedule. Her workload was the same, but now she broke up the monotony of meetings, paperwork, and training drills with finding her wife. It was like a game of hide and seek. Whenever she had an hour or so to spend, she would portal around the keep to look around Sylvanas’ usual haunts until she found her wife. That was easier now that she was attuned to her. (She still cursed herself for not doing it sooner.)

Sometimes she was in her office, and Sylvanas would humor as she rambled about one thing or another.

Sometimes Sylvanas was stuck in a meeting. They used to attend every meeting together, no matter how volatile it was. It was when they realized that not only were they both not needed, but were interchangeable, that they leapt at the chance to separate  _ and _ lessen their workload.

Now that Jaina was becoming, well,  _ averse _ to being separated, she saw no reason not to join her when she could. Luckily, no one really questioned her when she walked in like she was supposed to be there. She would apologize for being late and take a seat next to Sylvanas. It earned a few confused looks from her at first, but she seemed to take it in stride.

Sometimes she was in the training yard with her rangers, and Jaina would be content to watch from the sidelines. Once, she had summoned them a few new foes to fight - the looks on their faces when they realized that arrows went right through water elementals still made her giggle. She had nearly missed her next conference, she’d been so caught up in the mock battle.

Sometimes she was in the armory, sitting on a wooden crate and sharpening knives. There was something almost sacred about that room, something that would curse Jaina if she stepped over the threshold and ruined whatever it was that Sylvanas found there. Jaina let her be when she was in the armory.

Today, Sylvanas was stuck.

Jaina was following the tenuous thread of Sylvanas’ dark energy through the corridors when she came upon them. 

Sylvanas’ ears were a few degrees away from being pressed to her head as Lor’themar spoke rapidly and gestured with his hands. She had no idea how he could keep talking with how obviously glazed over her eyes were, how her body was half turned like she was waiting for the slightest opportunity to escape. Maybe Jaina was just too used to reading Sylvanas’ body language, studying it as intently as she had the dusty books that taught her to bend the world around her.

Either way, Jaina didn’t blame her. Lor’themar was quickly rising to the most annoying person she’d ever had to deal with. Of course, that mostly had to do with how much of her wife’s time he’d taken up lately. Most of the time, he was perfectly fine. She just wished he’d find somewhere else to be perfectly fine, right now.

_ One dashing rescue, coming right up. _

She bustled over, sidling up next to Sylvanas and giving him a wide - if fake - smile. “Hello, Reagent Lord.”

His hands froze, mid gesticulation. His smile was a lot more genuine than hers, and it sent a quick lance of guilt through her. “Bal’a dash, your highness. I was just telling your wife -” 

“I’m so sorry, but I need to steal her from you, she’s very late.” She hoped the slightly more real smile took the sting out of it.

“I am?” Sylvanas asked, her eyebrows rising.

Jaina shot her a look, hoping she’d catch on. “Yes. Haven’t you noticed the time?” She motioned to the clock at the end of the corridor.

Sylvanas’ ears perked up, a slight smile pulling at one corner of her mouth. “I have noticed the time, wife. But what could I possibly be late for?”

“A meeting.” Jaina said, eyes narrowing at the spark of mischief she saw.

Lor’themar’s eyebrows pulled together, his head tilting.

“A meeting…” Sylvanas said slowly, as if hearing the word for the first time. “Who, exactly, am I meant to be meeting?”

“Me, of course.”

“... I see.” She glanced sidelong at Lor’themar, whose ears had cocked at that off-kilter, uncertain angle. “When did you schedule this meeting?”

Jaina huffed, “Just now, actually. We’re meant to go over the basics of  _ teamwork _ and  _ cooperation. _ ”

Sylvanas mouth pulled into a full blown smirk, not even trying to hide the impish gleam in her eyes. “I seem to recall from one of our earlier…  _ meetings _ \- that teamwork and cooperation required both parties to be on the same page.”

If she wanted to do this here, Jaina wasn’t about to back down. In fact, she took a step closer, trailing a finger over her forearm. She wasn’t wearing her armor today, dressed in an elegant sleeveless shirt and dark leather pants. She was wearing less and less armor around the keep lately. Jaina never realized that she had an actual wardrobe that wasn’t made entirely of spikes and skulls. 

“You certainly showed me that you didn’t need that to be fantastic at it.”

“Fantastic?” Sylvanas’ ears strained even further upwards, eyes going half lidded. “I can’t argue with that.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Then the meeting would be redundant, seeing that I’ve already proven my proficiency.”

Jaina’s hand slid down to draw nonsensical shapes into her palm. “There’s always room for improvement. I think we could use a bit more practice.”

Lor’themar stared at the two of them like he’d stumbled into a mother lynx guarding its newborn cubs, his good eye darting back and forth between them with a sort of apprehensive confusion.

Sylvanas let out a dramatic, put upon sigh. “I suppose you’re not wrong.”

“Keep up that attitude and I’ll make you work twice as hard at it.” Jaina warned.

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“More of a promise, really.”

Sylvanas opened her mouth, eyes twinkling, but Lor’themar cut in before she could say whatever wicked thing she’d planned. “Far be it from me to keep you from your… meeting?” He sounded as though he no longer knew what the word meant, and no longer  _ wanted _ to know. “We can catch up another time.”

“Lovely.” Jaina gave him a winning smile and tugged at Sylvanas’ hand, practically dragging her to the nearest empty room. “It was great seeing you, Regent Lord.”

She didn’t hear his reply, the door already thudding closed behind them.

Sylvanas' shoulders shook for a moment before she threw her head back and laughed.

"You little shit!" Jaina couldn’t hide the amused lilt to her own voice.

That incited another bout of Sylvanas’ deep, rolling laughter.

“I saw you dangling off a cliff by your fingertips and offered you a hand! But you-!” She pointed, but that only seemed to fill Sylvanas with even more smug glee, “ Slapped it away and said  _ ‘No, Jaina. Watch me do a flip on the way down’ _ ! See if I try to save your sorry ass again!”

Sylvanas managed to wrangle her laughter, walking forward into the dim conference room with an extra sway to her hips and looking at Jaina over her shoulder. "I don't believe there's anything sorry about my ass."

Jaina’s eyes were, of course, drawn down to said ass. She had a point.

"Though I should thank you. We made a big enough scene to chase him off." She chuckled.

Jaina suddenly found that she had missed arguing with Sylvanas. Not the screaming or the anger, but  _ this _ . This back and forth. This push and pull. Not used to inflict pain or enflame tempers, just amusement.  _ Fun _ . It was still provoking, Jaina found, just not in a way that made her want to  _ fight. _

She trailed a slow finger down the line of Sylvanas' spine with a grin. "I think I know the perfect way for you to express your gratitude."

Sylvanas' nose wrinkled for a moment and Jaina could see the exact moment she caught her meaning, her ears shooting up and back straightening. 

She rounded on Jaina with burning eyes, crowding her back against the large table in the center of the room. Her hands gripped Jaina’s hips and sat her on it like she weighed no more than a stack of papers."So you were serious about our ‘meeting’."

Jaina’s head spun at the sudden movement, at the sudden shift in mood. She had honestly expected to work a little harder than that. To lead Sylvanas back to their rooms (or teleport them, given her lack of patience.) Or even just tease, hint at something to look forward to later if she was too busy now.

She hadn’t expected Sylvanas to drop everything to ravage her then and there the second she said the word. Not that she was disappointed. If anything, she was filing that information away for future reference.

"Still think it's redundant?" She asked a little breathlessly, leaning back on her hands to watch Sylvanas slot her hips between Jaina’s thighs.

"No, you've convinced me otherwise." She murmured. Her voice was always like that when they were pressed together. Quiet, almost reverent. It made something warm settle in her that had little to do with the sudden throbbing between her legs.

Sylvanas leaned close, tugging at the collar of her robes. Something dark and all too satisfied flashed through her eyes when she found the marks scattered up the side of her neck.

“Do you like them?” Jaina asked, tilting her head to give a better view. Sylvanas’ let out a pleased growl, only for her lips to press into a flat line a moment later. The sudden self consciousness was familiar and - now that Jaina could see it for what it was - easily remedied. “I like them.”

Red eyes flicked up to hers, searching for a lie, for deceit, for anything false. Jaina let her. She was willing to be patient. The results were always worth it. 

Sylvanas’ fingers resumed their movement, trailing along the collar then down, parting the robes as they went. 

“You like it when I mark you?” Her tone was a curious mix of goading and sincere.

Jaina hummed happily, hands finding their favorite places on Sylvanas’ broad shoulders; right where the bunching muscles met her neck so her thumb could brush lightly over her jaw. “Yes. If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t let you do it.” The muscles under her palms relaxed immensely, Sylvanas’ entire body sagging slightly. Jaina’s eyebrows rose. “Was that bothering you?”

Sylvanas’ mouth opened, then closed. She frowned. Jaina waited, trying to squeeze the tension out of her shoulders. When she leaned forward to rest her head on Jaina’s shoulder, Jaina could feel the long steadying breath wash over her skin.

“Yes.” She spoke haltingly, “I want to know what you like. I want to know what you  _ want. _ ”

Jaina wanted so much. She wanted Sylvanas to fuck her within an inch of her life on that table and give her more marks to smile at in the mirror. She wanted to fall asleep with her face pressed into Sylvanas’ neck and the comforting rumble of her purring filling her ears. She wanted to go down on her in the throne room with the clawed tips of her gauntlets trailing over her scalp. She wanted to find every scar on her body and know how she came by each one and what she was thinking when they happened. She wanted to hear more of those deep groans that seemed to come all the way from the pit of her chest and the breathless whine that stuck in her throat when she came. She wanted to kiss her -  _ Tides, _ she wanted Sylvanas to  _ know _ how much she loved kissing her.

_ Patience _ , she chided herself,  _ don’t scare her away. _

So she stuck with something simple.

“I want to touch you.”

Sylvanas froze, and Jaina held her breath. When she finally pulled back to look at her, her nose was wrinkled. “Why?”

Jaina blinked as several nebulous things about Sylvanas slid and clicked into place.

_ Not simple after all. _

She struggled with a way to say it that wouldn’t send her running, with an angle she could tap that would let Sylvanas understand what she meant. “I haven’t made you come yet, but you’ve absolutely spoiled me.”

Sylvanas’ ears pinned against her head as she drew back. She didn’t pull away completely, but every inch felt like it was trying to yank Jaina’s bones with it. “You’re not obligated to reciprocate. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Obligated? No,  _ no. _ ” She backpedaled quickly. She was supposed to be a diplomat, and here she was making her self conscious wife feel like an  _ obligation. _ It fit her unfortunate track record with diplomacy, but stung no less. “I’m asking because I  _ want _ to. Because I  _ like _ touching you.”

Sylvanas’ eyebrows knit together. She looked like she did when she was stooped over a map, trying to allocate too few troops to a too large battle. Jaina wished she could read minds, just for a moment, just long enough to know whether she should push forward or pull back. Whether Sylvanas didn’t want to be touched, or didn’t  _ want _ to want it. She hazarded a quiet, “Please?”

Slowly, Sylvanas’ ears straightened out as she looked at Jaina’s face. She gave a nod.

Jaina couldn’t stop the bright smile that bloomed on her face, nor the burst of warmth in her chest. She pulled Sylvanas forward, pressing a slow kiss to her lips.

Jaina really did love kissing her, loved the sharp hint of fangs when her tongue was allowed to explore and the taste that reminded her of mineral rich streams trickling from mountains. She loved touching her too, she loved the way Sylvanas went slack when she arched her back to press as much of them together as she could, loved the twitch of muscle under her fingers when her hand snuck under her shirt to run along her back. It felt like Sylvanas wanted to melt into her, wanted to consume her, or be consumed by her. Either way, Jaina felt like she’d been dipped in kerosene and lit on fire.

When she finally pulled back to breath, Sylvanas’ newly warmed lips feathered kisses across her jaw with a low hum in her throat. Tides, it was so easy to be swept away in Sylvanas’ mouth, in the hands grabbing at her hips and pulling her core against a hard stomach. But she reigned it in. She wanted something else.

She let her hands roam the skin of her back for a few more moments, taking the time to steal a few more kisses. When they traveled around her sides and found her stomach, she gave the hem of Sylvanas shirt a light tug. “Can I take this off?”

Sylvanas tensed, lips pressing into a tight line. Her eyes skittered away from Jaina’s like the wrong ends of magnets. “I… would prefer if you didn’t.”

“Then I won’t.” She said simply, kissing Sylvanas on the cheek when she relaxed. Her hands let go of the shirt and pressed flat against her stomach instead, letting out a low hum at the feel of cold skin.

Jaina took her time mapping out muscles and scars, skirting neatly around  _ the _ scar when Sylvanas’ shoulders stiffened. Sylvanas was small but hard, tall frame hung with whipcord muscle that trembled and twitched under her fingers. But her breasts were soft.

Jaina watched her face when she pressed into them, how her eyes fluttered shut and a ragged groan caught in her chest. Her own moan was a close echo when Sylvanas’ hips bucked against her, but her focus stayed on running thumbs over taut nipples. They were so sensitive, drawing whimpers and sharp puffs of air every time she passed over them. She wondered briefly if Sylvanas could come from that alone, wondered what kind of reaction she’d get with her tongue laving over them, lips sucking and teeth grazing. Jaina groaned, pressing her face into Sylvanas’ neck to keep her mouth occupied with nipping at the hard tendons there.

“Jaina.” Her voice was tight, breathless, on the edge of a plea.

Jaina scattered kisses over her collarbones, humming softly at the feel of them. “I’ll stop teasing.”

Her hands slid down, fingers spread to take in as much of her as she could, commit the feel of her to memory. They were clumsy as they tugged at the ties on her pants, hindered by the serpentine roll Sylvanas’ hips had adopted and the tight press of their bodies together - not that she minded in the least. Jaina looked down her body when she finally loosened them enough to watch her hand slide past the waistband.

“Oh,  _ sweetheart _ .” She cooed, her fingers finding just how needed this was. Sylvanas’ unfocused eyes slid to hers, looking so achingly vulnerable that Jaina couldn’t help but press a kiss to her brow, her cheekbones, the soft space where her jaw met her ear. Her fingers slipped over her clit in lazy patterns, goosebumps rising along her arms at the dual toned moan that ripped its way out of Sylvanas’ throat. Sylvanas’ hands fell to the table, scratching deep furrows into the polished wood.

It didn’t take long for the smooth roll of hips to turn into jagged, jerking thrusts. The moans turned to desperate gasps and broken whimpers. Jaina’s toes curled at the sensation of Sylvanas’ body growing tight against her. She pulled her face against her neck, her own quick breath coming faster when she felt clenched teeth pressing against her skin.

Sylvanas came with that low whine caught in her throat, body shuddering against her’s. Jaina hummed quietly against her ear, letting her ride it out for as long as she could. When Sylvanas’ body relaxed against her, she snaked her arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

After a moment, Jaina let out a breathless giggle. “Thank you.”

Sylvanas huffed in amusement. Her voice came out rasping, a bit groggy, like she’d just woken up. “I didn’t even do anything.” She shifted until she was no longer half collapsed against Jaina, bracing her weight on the table.

“You didn’t have to.” Jaina nipped at her shoulder. “But, there’s still time to change that.”

That seemed to rouse her. She straightened, a hot glint in her eyes that made Jaina’s already aching pussy clench. It wouldn’t take long at this rate, but she was fine with that. She just needed Sylvanas to touch her.

Jaina yanked impatiently at the sash on her robes. She grasped a cold hand, guiding it past the waistband of her underwear without ceremony. The difference in temperature made the muscles in her legs jump and tense, but a low groan left her at the sudden, satisfying pressure. 

“You’re  _ dripping _ .” Sylvanas hissed, wasting no time in pressing two fingers into her.

Jaina’s breath hitched and stuttered, hands coming up to grip at the back of Sylvanas’ shirt. “I told you I like touching you.” A breathy whine left her as those fingers curled, palm pressing into her clit. “Fuck - Sylvanas,  _ please _ .”

Sylvanas’ free hand gripped her hip, holding her still as she began to fuck her in earnest. It took everything Jaina had just to hold on, muffling frantic, needy sounds into her shoulder. She couldn’t hold back if she tried, her back arching and stars flashing over her vision as she came.

Sylvanas growled again - louder this time, her hand never stilling. “Again?”

Tides, she really  _ was _ spoiled. She nodded against Sylvanas’ shoulder.

Sylvanas splayed a hand over her chest, guiding Jaina to lie down on the table. Her back was going to kill her later, but she couldn’t bring herself to care when Sylvanas began to use her hips to give her hand more force.

That gave her a wicked idea.

She reached down to pat shakily at Sylvanas’ stomach. “W-wait.”

Sylvanas froze, concern furrowing her brow. “Are you alright?”

Jaina’s heart softened at that. She stroked gently over the tense muscles she could reach. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just pull back a little.”

Sylvanas did as she was asked, head tilted curious. Jaina smiled at her, eyes flaring slightly as she drew a rune in the air with glowing fingertips. Sylvanas jolted, looking down between them and blinking slowly.

“Jaina, is that-?”

“An arcane sex toy? Yes.” She chuckled, “You’re married to a mage, remember?”

She bit her lip nervously, watching as Sylvanas pulled back a little more to get a good look - the blue light radiating upwards making the planes of her face look sharper.

It was rudimentary. Just a solid construct that she’d learned from the scribbles of an adventurous apprentice in the back of a much older tome in the Dalaran Library. 

“It’s not fancy, and it doesn’t transmit sensation - I need a bit more preparation for that - and if you want it gone, I ca-” Her rambling was cut off with a gasp as her underwear were pulled down her legs and tossed on the floor.

“Leave it.” She purred. Jaina let out a sharp whimper at the smooth glide of it pressing into her, filling her to the brim. 

Sylvanas gave her a moment to adjust, hands kneading at her thighs until Jaina squirmed restlessly against her. Wrapping her legs around Sylvanas’ waist, she could feel the flex of muscle against her thighs - the graceful stretch as she pulled back and the tightening as her hips snapped forward against Jaina’s, spurring a moan that was loud enough to be embarrassing if she’d had her wits about her. As it was, all she could do was try to dig her fingers into the table as Sylvanas began to roll her hips in smooth, even thrusts.

"Fuck, Jaina." She groaned, gazing down at where they met with burning eyes, "You take it so well."

"I can take more." Jaina gasped, "Harder."

Sylvanas leaned down to murmur in her ear, hair falling to tickle at the skin exposed by the shifting of her robes. "Harder? Are  _ you _ going to explain this to the healers if I shatter your pelvis?"

"I'll write them a five paragraph essay." She groaned, taking the chance to wind her arms around Sylvanas' shoulders, keeping her close. Jaina bucked her hips, trying to meet every one of Sylvanas' thrusts. "But you won't.  _ Please Sylvanas _ ."

"You're going to be the death of me." She growled. Jaina would have made a smart remark about her already being dead if she wasn’t focused on holding on for dear life when Sylvanas finally did as she asked.

She snaked an arm under Jaina’s waist so she could hike her knees up on the table, giving herself more leverage to pound every single thought from Jaina’s head. Sharp teeth dragged along her neck until they found a nice spot to clamp down, and that was it. 

A hoarse wail tore itself from her throat as the pleasure slammed through her. Jaina writhed under her until Sylvanas growled into her neck and rested more weight against her to keep her still. She squeezed a hand between their bodies to draw firm, quick circles around Jaina’s clit that had her coming again with a speed that left her whimpering into Sylvanas shoulder.

Luckily, she had mercy on her after that. Jaina didn’t think she could come again without passing out. Sylvanas brought her down gently with a slow grind of hips, her chest rumbling loudly against Jaina’s as she fought to catch her breath. When Sylvanas finally withdrew the toy, her body went slack. The combination of Sylvanas’ weight and cool skin against her trembling, overheated body made her wish that she could purr too. She found herself relaxing even further as kisses were trailed up her neck to her ear. 

At least, until Sylvanas spoke.

“When is your next meeting?”

Jaina let out a petulant grunt, pulling a chuckle from Sylvanas. 

“You just fucked my soul out of my body and then railed it right back in. I don’t even remember where we are, Sylvanas.” She grumbled, not even trying to get up. If anything, the thighs around Sylvanas’ waist squeezed a bit tighter.

Then, she  _ did _ remember her next meeting. Her eyes flew open and darted to the clock above the door. She gasped, pushing at Sylvanas’ chest until she rolled off of her with a huff.

She watched with a satisfied smirk as Jaina scrambled off the table on legs that threatened to give out under her. “That bad?”

“I’ve got about fifteen minutes to  _ not _ look like I’ve just been thoroughly fucked.” She hissed, trying to fix her robes. It was useless, of course. Tides, she needed to change. And Bathe.

“I wouldn’t call that thorough.” Sylvanas drawled. “I can demonstrate, if you’d like.”

Jaina tried to glare, but it didn’t hold any heat. All that went south when she took in the sight her wife made. 

She sprawled over the table with her hands behind her head and legs dangling off the edge, lazy and loose limbed like a cat sunning itself. Her half lidded eyes held Jaina’s, ears lax and hair an ungodly mess. Though, the glowing blue dick jutting out from her pelvis made Jaina want to laugh until she cried. Or climb on. Both.

“You’re going to make me even more late.” 

“You’re a queen, Jaina.” Sylvanas said, eyebrows raised, “You’re allowed to reschedule.”

Jaina blinked.

She had a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like Lor'themar
> 
> Another chapter added to the end count. I realized that 20k is not an appropriate size for a chapter, and had to split one.


End file.
